The Clan
by squeekness
Summary: Gambit, Logan and Beast have survived the slavers but will their new friends be worse? Part 2 of my Kimble series
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men but I do so love toying with them.

Summary : The X-men have survived the slavers, but will their new friends be worse? Find out! Part two of my Kimble series.

Notes: Rated M for language, extreme violence, and non-explicit sexual situations.

AU but only because I chose to change a few things in my dear friends' histories, nothing drastic so please forgive. I wrote this for a friend who didn't read the comics so there is a bit of back history and explanation on who everyone is and what their powers are. I've been working on this story for years so I do ask that you don't use any of my non-Marvel universe characters without my permission. I love my Siskans as I do my children.

Please excuse my bad French, I have no Frenchie or Cajun friends, I've had to rely on a French/English dictionary and the sometimes quirky but always amusing Babelfish.

Constructive criticism – good or bad – will only inspire me to continue.

ColossusR, chapter one is for you as per your request. :)

**10-3-2009** ~ Just a quick note to say that I have just revised some of the material in this book since it was first posted years ago. I didn't change any of the events, I just wanted to clean up any spelling and grammar mistakes I could find and well, try to make the writing itself a bit better. I plan to do this with all of the stories I have posted but since I have such a huge collection of books, it will take me a long while. I apologize now for any inconsistencies you may encounter going forward, there will be a point where my revisions have left off and you'll probably notice it as you read along. Please forgive me. – Squeekness

-------------------------------------------

(One)

"_Sir, there's been a problem with the mission." _

Charles Xavier sat at his large mahogany desk, eyes closed, one hand rubbing at his temple, warding off what was soon to be a killer headache. Those words had been spoken to him days ago, but they kept replaying themselves over and over again like a bad recording in his mind.

Charles Xavier was not a young man, he was in his late-fifties, bald but still quite fit for his age. He was a mutant himself, an omega telepath and possibly the most powerful mind reader on the planet. He was also bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Not one to let limitations of any kind set him back, Charles had used his wealth and his mutant power work for him in creating the Xavier Institute for Gifted Children – a fancy cover name for what was a school, but more importantly, for what was also a refuge for mutant children. This amazing institution was located on a large estate in Westchester New York, an excellent place for such a fine facility. That had been a few years ago now, and some of those gifted children had grown into outstanding men and women. With the help of those first students, Xavier next created his most beloved accomplishment, the X-men.

The X-men were not like most other mutant groups or gangs. They fought not for profit, but for peace. They most often acted as policemen against mutant terrorists or did interventions where they would seek out troubled mutants – most of whom didn't even know or even wanted to know they were mutants – but who had found themselves in trouble, harming themselves or others. The X-men would collect these wayward folks and add them to their own numbers, giving them survival skills, but more importantly, a superior education that what they might otherwise have received.

These folks then had a choice, they could stay on and help others at the school, or if they had the dedication and the guts to stand up to the challenge, they could eventually win themselves a seat on the X-men team itself. Charles Xavier, or the Professor as he was sometimes called, had many such loyal and reliable people.

The team grew steadily larger over the years, mostly by adding the more accomplished students from the Institute, but also by acquiring the occasional "walk on" like Remy. Logan they had recruited from a Canadian government agency, the first person Charles had invited this way, and it was such a success, that others had followed later. Regardless of their reasons for joining, most had worked out well, sacrificing themselves for others on a daily basis.

"_They've simply vanished, Professor. Just like the others." _

Charles Xavier wasn't a stupid man. In every venture there are always risks, sacrifices. It didn't happen often, but Charles had buried more than one good friend in the large private cemetery on the grounds.

This latest mission had been very different. If there had been a plane crash, one could search the rubble and bury the remains. If there had been an abduction and a claim of responsibility, one could pursue the perpetrator until he was caught and the stolen ones returned, hopefully safe and sound.

But this....

This was a vanishing without a trace – one of a series of vanishings that began a couple of months ago which hadn't even come close to being solved. No one had claimed responsibility and the number of victims had come close to four thousand in total. The abductions had all occurred to large groups of people in the city of New York. All had happened in places where young people gathered, dance clubs and the like. This is why the Professor had placed his teams there and that was why they had gotten taken as well it seemed. What a colossal turn of rotten luck.

"_They've vanished without a trace and I don't know what we're going to do about it. Professor, we have no plan." _

Those incredibly painful words had been spoken by the Professor's right hand man, Scott Summers. Scott was a sturdy young man, one of Charles' first students and possibly his finest. Scott's mutation was pretty spectacular in nature -- his body produced a sort of destructive energy that could be released through his eyes. Due to a childhood accident, there was no on/off switch, he simply shot out beams of red energy whenever his eyes were open. Because of this, he was forced to always wear protective eyewear that controlled this deadly energy to protect himself and those around him. Charles had perfected a special visor for him, one that allowed that energy to be released at will. Scott had mastered the use of this visor and earned for himself the codename Cyclops. This terrible mutation had brought out in him a strong personal will and self restraint. He did not make alarmist statements without fully assessing a situation and checking all of his options. It had been difficult for Charles to hear the sadness and hint of defeat in the man's voice.

These three missing team members were all valuable in their own way and were already sorely missed. The one missed most of all was Henry. Beast taught many classes in the sciences and was in contact with much of the student body. His classes were the most lively and very popular. Henry made learning fun and the kids learned well from him, some of them going on to work on scientific projects beneficial to the whole Institute. It hadn't taken long for questions and whisperings about his unexplained disappearance to be heard among the students. The X-men missions were not discussed amongst the civilian students and none of them were in the know. Charles was unsure how long he could keep the kids from questioning this loss before he would have to tell them some devastating news.

Wolverine was also missed by the senior team and staff if not the students. His classes were tough and the going sometimes hard. He taught mainly self defense classes and survival training and he expected results. He was fair if not exactly lenient. Logan was primarily missed by the staff because on a risky mission he was the guy you wanted watching your back. Because he could take a beating and walk away from it, Wolverine was the first to jump into harm's way to protect another, the man was positively fearless.

Now Remy LeBeau, prince of thieves... for him there was always a special place in the Professor's heart. He considered Gambit to be one of his finest achievements. With every step he took, Gambit was a walking symbol of reform and recovery. He was the hardened criminal with the Devil's eyes who now worked on the side of the angels. It was widely known that Gambit had a checkered past and some even knew about his one most notorious crime. This knowledge had kept Remy from making many friends in the mutant community, he was shunned and scorned by most, finding peace at last in this Westchester refuge.

These three men were among the Professor's finest and now, he had no clue where they were or how to find them. He could only hope that wherever they were, they were alive and well, safe and sound.


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Wolverine climbed up the slope to the top of the ravine. The view from up here was fantastic, he could see for miles in all directions. He could see the forest and the big lake they had flown over just yesterday out here to the Lucky Dragon. Even further out were the ruins of the City they had fled from. So far, there had been no sign of an advancing Clan army or incoming ships.

Logan was surprised at how barren this area was considering how close the forest had been. In these brown rocky canyons, nothing grew except scrub brush and a few scraggly dead looking trees. He could sense no large animals, only tiny mice and the occasional insect crawling around in the nooks. No birds flew overhead that he could see and he wondered if there would even be bats here at full dark. It was dim here, gloomy. The sky seemed like it was perpetually cloudy. He had expected that near the Dognan city because of all the fighting, but out here it should be clear. Weird.

He grinned to himself when he heard Henry slip and slide on the loose rocks behind him. He waited until he heard the big blue man come up behind him before he teased, "Climb much?"

"Very funny. You see anything?"

"Nuthin'. If this Valentin guy is comin', he ain't walkin' in with a big army."

"Maybe he has teleportation capabilities."

"Maybe he ain't comin' at all. Could be some kind of trick."

"Seth seemed to think something was going to happen."

"He ain't real, Blue," Logan replied, quick to show his viewpoint on that.

"Doesn't mean his opinion doesn't matter. We haven't been here long enough to dismiss him or Kimble so easily."

Logan just grunted. "What's Kane doing?"

"Not much. His people haven't packed up. He's waiting."

Logan scanned the horizon again. "We should keep watch up here."

"This is too far away from the ship. If something happens, we might get separated. The ship's cameras show these same views on the big screen. Come back with me. You can look out from inside."

"You go ahead. I want ta check the perimeter one last time before dark."

"Right."

Henry turned away and went back down the way he'd come. He wandered through Kane's camp, seeing how his people were milling about nervously. They looked to the canyon top anxiously as if expecting an attack. Some of the men were sharpening their weapons, others were packing up everything else but their tents while trying not to be obvious about it. The children were out of sight and probably hiding. Kane hadn't given the word to leave yet and they weren't comfortable with it. It didn't matter. Henry suspected these people could break camp quickly if they had to.

Henry walked up to the Lucky Dragon and went inside. He entered the Main Room and stood in front of the big screen there, pleased that it still showed the four different views of the surrounding area. Henry could clearly see Logan moving about and noticed that the camera views appeared to be following him as if he was being deliberately tracked. As if in answer to Henry's unspoken question, Kimble popped up on the screen at his work station. He was leaning back in his chair and had his furry pilot's feet up on the console as usual. He smiled up at Henry as a friendly greeting. "It's all clear, Henry. Don' worry, I gots ya covered. If Vally's cummin', it shouldn't be fer a while yet."

Henry returned Kimble's smile with one of his own. "Logan said he could see no sign of an army. Would Valentin teleport in? Beam down from a ship perhaps?"

" 'Beam down'? Dunno whatcha means by that, but if he's runnin' with Reese, he kin teleport most anawhere. Reese kin move a lotta people at once if he's got a mind ta do it."

"Who is Reese?"

"Reese is Vally's Third. He's an alpha like you guys. He kin teleports people from far away. 'S the only reason why Vally keeps that scraggly little bugger around. Reese ain't always with him, though. Sometimes Vally gots him runnin' 'round doin' other stuff. Tough ta say what's gonna happen, but don'cha worry none. Me an Seth're lookin' out fer him."

"How is Seth, by the way?"

Kimble's eyes brightened, he was clearly pleased by the question. "He's all right. He's gonna be shy 'til Vally's gone, then he'll come out. It's kind of ya ta ask, though. I'll mentions it to him."

"Tell him I'm ready for a rematch at chess anytime."

"You gonna let him win?" the pilot couldn't help but tease.

"Not unless he earns it."

"Good man," Kimble said with a snicker. "See ya round." He waved and clicked off.

Henry smiled, amused by Kimble's all too realistic humor, and went into the galley. Fallen and Maylee were there, seated at the large metal table. Fallen was eating a light snack and Maylee had some photos of Gambit's injuries and was filling out some kind of report. Henry sat across from her and tugged on one of the photos. "What is this?"

"When we go back to Station Nine, I'll go back to my class. Any confirmed reports of any medical work I did out here will be added to my scores. I'm sorry your friend was hurt, but he's really going to boost my grade this quarter," she answered with a short laugh.

Henry wasn't offended, only curious. "They have regular schools here?"

"Yeah, though the classes are pretty small and I only get to go when we come to the station. My instructor is really nice and he holds all my lessons for me. I do most of the work out here."

"That must be difficult for you."

"Not really. Momma and Seth help me out a lot."

Henry smiled at Fallen. "Maylee is your daughter?"

"Not in the real sense," Fallen answered. "Valentin gave her to me when she was four. He said he found her in a ditch someplace. I was still pretty low after the Red Sky went down --- that was a ship I had been piloting. I was recovering from a serious injury and not quite myself and he figured that caring for her would take my mind off things. He was right. Maylee was one of the best things to happen to me." She gave Maylee a hug. "May and my boys. They're the best."

"How did Remy get those big scars on his chest?"Maylee asked Henry next. She had seen five large silver slash like scars that crossed most of his chest and abdomen when she'd undressed him. It was an old injury and she guessed it had almost killed him. "Was he clawed by a monster?"

Henry nodded. "Why, yes. He'd been clawed by a monster...in a manner of speaking. We've fought many enemies in our time. It would be impossible to walk away unharmed."

Henry was aware of Remy's scars, but hadn't thought of them for some time. It had been a long time since he'd seen them. All the team members were expected to report for regular physicals, but Remy, like Logan, often dodged them. The one time Henry had managed to drag the thief in, he'd been quite shocked by the signs of that old injury to say the least. In spite of his training, Henry had been unable to hide his surprise and the thief had seen it. Remy didn't allow the doctor to ask about them and never showed up for a physical again.

The other team members had taken longer to find out about them, if they even knew at all. It had been clear early on that in spite of his flirtatious nature, Gambit was a shy boy. He never walked around the house or anywhere else without a shirt and he never used the communal showers, even after a grueling workout session with the team.

When the X-men finally learned of Remy's checkered past and his most serious crime, Henry knew then the claw marks had come from Sabretooth, a vicious killer mutant that Remy had been known to be with on one memorable occasion. Judging from the depth of the scarring, Gambit was lucky to have walked away from that encounter alive.

As unsettling as those upper body scars were, Henry was surprised they were all Maylee had asked about. There were a pair of more devastating scars that Gambit possessed -- one on each wrist. Those were still tinged with pink and far more recent, the sign of a serious suicide attempt, no kidding around there. Henry, with his deft medical eye, had surmised those had come during Remy's trial in Antarctica or in the beginning of his exile. Again when Henry tried to question the thief in private about them he was brushed off and not allowed to ask about them again. If Logan or anyone else on the team had seen them, they hadn't dared to ask.

Kimble came up on the galley screen, interrupting Henry's thoughts. He spoke Fallen's name and waited, saying nothing more.

"Yes?" she replied, her eyes glancing up to him.

Kimble didn't answer, but looked at her intensely. She met his gaze and slowly shook her head. He swore and said, "Better haul ass an' hide, May! Vally's comin'!" He clicked off, vanishing into the system.

Maylee reacted immediately to Kimble's warning. She got up in a rush, snatching her things hurriedly from the table and fled from the galley, disappearing down the trap door to the lower level of the ship.

Henry stood, trying to control the hammering in his chest. There had been no mistaking Kimble's fear or Maylee's reaction. This was going to be bad. "Are you going to do anything to stop this?"

Fallen lowered her chin, a sad sort of defeat in her eyes. "No. Stay with Remy. This isn't your quarrel and I'm certain nothing will happen to you. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, don't try to fight Valentin yourself. You won't win and it will only make things worse."

"Fallen, please."

"Go. Stay with your friend."


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

Logan came down from the slope and walked unhurriedly over to Kane. He hadn't seen any signs of anyone coming and had decided to come down. Maybe Kane would have some meat cooking and would want to talk for a while. He greeted Kane and was about to ask him something when the wind shifted. Logan froze. The wind carried the scent of a large group of people coming their way. "Someone's comin'."

Kane looked at him. "How do you know?"

"I'm an alpha. It's what I do."

At that moment, there was a flash of light and a small pack of large men, warriors, materialized in the middle of the camp. The leader was massive, over six feet tall and very powerful. He was Clan by his dress and tattoos – he had the most markings of any Clan man Logan had seen so far. They covered most of the sides of his chest and arms. The only gap was down the front of him where the Honor Sword would be if he had it. His hair was fiery red and tied back in a long ponytail. He had a long broadsword in a sheath tied to his back and a Dognan energy gun strapped to his thigh. His face was cruel, his eyes mean. There was no mistaking the malice or power of this man.

At his feet crouched a small black haired man, clearly some kind of feral alpha. He was dressed in a ragged pair of leather pants and wore no shoes on his feet. He carried no weapons. His eyes darted quick and sure about him as he took everything in, sniffing at the air. He grinned wickedly up at his Master, showing broken, jagged teeth.

"Easy, Reese," the big man purred, patting this creature of his like a pet.

Behind him stood another man, his Second, Joseph. Joseph had a large amount of tattoos and carried a broadsword as well. His hair was a deep brown and tied back as everyone else's was. He was tall and sturdy, a heavily muscled warrior as were most of Valentin's men. He looked over the crowd with the arrogance of someone who has been in power for a long time. He would be as cruel as his Master.'

The people of Kane's camp immediately dropped down to the ground, kneeling submissively in terror. Valentin turned his withering gaze on Kane and sneered, "Kane."

Kane dropped down on one knee. "Valentin," he returned with equal contempt.

Valentin looked next at Logan who hadn't moved. "And you are?"

"Neutral observer," Wolverine drawled in return to the question. He slouched arrogantly, hooking his thumbs in his jeans, looking for all the world like this was just some sort of causal bar fight and not something much more serious. That was all right, he figured he could take Valentin without working up much of sweat. The bigger the bully, the bigger they fell. And they always fell, each and every one.

Valentin approached him cautiously but without real fear. "And what have you seen?"

"Nuthin' that impresses me all that much."

Valentin stopped and smiled at him indulgently, like the cat who had swallowed the canary - or was about to. "Really?"

Logan yawned, bored by this punk's pathetic attempts to intimidate him. "Really."

"Well, we'll just have to work harder then."

Valentin's men began to laugh.

Logan didn't get the joke, but then all the hairs suddenly went up on the back of his neck. He turned to look behind him, but it was too late. A flash of light blinded him and Reese, the feral alpha, was suddenly there, inexplicably standing right beside him when he had just been quite a few feet away. Logan then realized that this beast was the teleporter and before Logan could react to that irritating little fact, a restraining collar was placed on his neck and his target flashed away. The man then reappeared next to Valentin bowed on one knee, a sly and proud grin on his face.

His master looked down at him, pleased. "Very good, Reese."

Reese garbled something lovingly up at him only Valentin could understand.

Wolverine was not so amused. He snarled in frustration and yanked on the collar, feeling the red rage rise. He let it, it couldn't make this mess any worse at this point than it already was. The collar wasn't coming free no matter how hard he tugged on it. Fine. If Valentin was going to cheat, so could he. He then popped his claws, feeling his flesh shred and bleed without healing. It didn't deter him in the least – he was a pain junkie and shivered with the joy of it, looking forward to the coming battle. He was going to rip this jackass a new one and love every minute of it.

If Valentin had been surprised by Logan's hidden weapons, he gave no sign. He stepped towards Logan without hesitation, accepting his invitation, and they circled. Valentin still had that large sword strapped to his back but didn't pull it. Instead, he suddenly kicked up dirt into Wolverine's eyes and with a speed startling for such a large man, smashed a massive fist into his face.

Logan didn't even try to evade it. The collar had dulled his senses and delayed his reaction time, he hadn't even thought to dodge the blow. The force of Valentin's strike lifted him off his feet and sent him sailing backwards a few feet before he landed gracelessly on his back with a thud. He did get some satisfaction in spite of his pain, though – hitting his metal laced bones was like hitting a brick wall. Valentin howled with pained surprise and gripped his wrist in agony. That he hadn't expected.

Wolverine shambled drunkenly to his feet with a wicked laugh. It had been a really long time since anyone had sent him for a flight like that, this was getting interesting. He came back to Valentin without fear and circled him once more, sniffing at him like a buzzard to the kill. Valentin's wrist was obviously injured and the big man wouldn't be able to strike out at him again, not like that. How nice. Logan chose his moment and lunged, swinging one clawed hand out menacingly just for show. He drew no blood, he had only wanted to intimidate Valentin and wasn't quite ready to take this to the next level, not until he was certain of just what he was dealing with. Even now they were still only negotiating in their stubborn, high testosterone way, Logan was hoping this could still end in his favor without someone being dead.

Valentin was clearly a veteran warrior, he dodged Logan's half heartedly swung blades quickly and spun, kicking Wolverine in the face. He wore heavy boots with steel toes and Wolverine felt his lips tear as his mouth exploded with pain. How he didn't lose teeth on that one he didn't know. He twisted and went down on his knees hard, blood pouring from his open, gasping mouth. Damn, he was getting his ass kicked instead of the other way around! He was beginning to regret his choice to hold back. Maybe there was only going to be one way that this was going to end after all.

Valentin just laughed, thinking he was winning this all on his own, and paced around the downed man in a circle. "You alphas are all the same. So arrogant with your silly powers."

Logan calmed, trying to get back under control. He knew he was letting his rage get the best of him and that he was better than this. He could beat Valentin down without resorting to murder, it was just a matter of time. He wiped his chin as he stood up on shaky legs and pulled his torn lips back in a bloody smile. He spat blood and they circled again. He was about to make his next move when a volley of red glowing objects flew past him overhead towards Valentin. Logan knew to keep his head down but his opponent did not. The ground exploded in front of Valentin and he spun away, cursing.

Logan looked behind him and saw Gambit and Henry coming. " 'Bout time you guys showed up," he couldn't help but tease. He was happy to see them.

"You know us, better late dan never," Remy wheezed with as much humor as he could muster. He was still weak but putting up as good a front as he could. It wasn't working, he was quite pale and looked like he would fall down at any moment. He hadn't healed enough for this.

Valentin wasn't a stupid man. He wasn't about to wait to see what might come his way next and so barked a command at Reese. Quick as a wink the feral man blinked out and was gone.

"Watch yer backs!" Logan called out to his teammates, his untrusting eyes never leaving Valentin's face. "He's got a teleporter!"

Gambit and Henry braced themselves at the warning but Reese did not appear. Instead, the rest of Valentin's army melted out of the blackness and came towards them. There were at least three hundred men in total, all in prime physical condition and armed with swords and arrows. More than a few of them carried Dognan energy guns. The X-men were completely surrounded with no way out.

Valentin scrutinized the three mutants before him. He was even bolder now with his men behind him and his voice was haughty and proud as he commanded, "You boys had best decide now if you wish to live or die."

"Kneel down and live to fight another day," Kane advised them from behind Logan, his voice trembling with real fear. All of Kane's earlier bravado was now gone, so much for him standing up to Valentin.

There really wasn't much choice and though it rankled him to do so, Logan got down on one knee. Gambit and Henry went down behind him, taking his lead. It didn't mean they were all out of plans. Their submission was outward only -- they all knew how this game was played, stay down and wait for the best time to strike again.

Valentin approached Wolverine more confidently now, his men following closely behind. He came up to Logan and gave him a backhand slap, wanting to establish his dominance. "Both knees for you, outsider!" he sneered. Logan started to stand, flushed with rebellious fury, but Valentin knocked him back down. "Stay down, wild one, or maybe I'll take one of your friends. They seem a bit weaker than you."

Logan stayed as he was, his sides heaving from his barely controlled impatience. He knew there was no way out of this, not just yet anyway. His anger still burned however, rising up out of him in a deep, throaty growl.

Valentin eyed the feral man warily, but didn't back down. Another of his men approached him from the main pack, carrying more restraining collars and energy cuffs. Logan snarled at the sight of them but didn't fight as he and the others were next restrained. There was no profit in it, not the three of them against three hundred. He would probably make it, but not his teammates. He would have to wait.

That finished, Valentin next turned to Kane. "Come here, Kane. We must talk."

Kane stood and obeyed nervously, his face pale. He looked up at the larger man and Logan smelled his fear. Valentin could as well, the red haired Clansman grinned with evil intent and Logan knew Kane was going to die. Valentin's voice was calm as he spoke, "Cerebus tells me you've been to see him, Kane. He is pleased that you have freed these alphas, they are prized above the others. Supposedly, they are the ones of legends told on the Far Earth. Fallen's little X-men. They seem a bit pitiful to me, but Cerebus wants them just the same. He shall have them."

"They are his," Kane stammered, clearly hoping a little generosity might get him out of this.

It wasn't going to happen. Valentin's voice became more haughty and arrogant. "Of course they are. And I shall bring them, not you. Did you really think this meager offering would get you what you want? The pilot? As if Cerebus would give his First Pilot to a two bit piece of Clan trash like you? Please! Not when he has someone else in mind more deserving."

"She'll never bow down to you!" Kane snarled and recklessly drew his sword.

Valentin just laughed at the sight of it. "Fallen and I know each other in ways you'll never understand," he growled. He pulled his own sword and they circled just as he and Logan had done. Kane could see that Valentin was wounded from the brief tussle with Wolverine and was all over it. Kane lunged wildly and without finesse, Logan almost groaned aloud at the sight of the man's stupidity.

Valentin was perfectly calm and therefore far more accurate -- he sidestepped just as he had with Logan and with an easy, well timed stroke, hacked Kane's arm off and sent the man's sword sailing off into the growing darkness. Logan cursed Kane's recklessness. Kane had been seriously outmatched, it hadn't even been close to fair fight.

Beyond all help now, Kane screamed in mortal agony, bloody foam and spit flying from his mouth. Valentin walked up to Kane as he finally sank to the ground on his knees and lay his sword across Kane's neck. "No one gets Fallen but me!" he snarled and cut the man's throat with a single angry thrust. In disgust, Valentin then tossed the man to the dirt like a sack of garbage and spat on him as he twitched and bled out into the ground. His grisly work here now done, Valentin cleaned his blade on Kane's leather pants and sheathed it with a satisfied click.

At that moment, Fallen herself finally came from the Lucky Dragon with Reese following behind her, loping awkwardly on his hands and feet like a big broken dog. In contrast, Fallen's strides were long, confident in her authority. Reese had a hard time keeping up.

Valentin watched their approach with keen interest. "Ah, Fallen, so good of you to join us."

Fallen saw Kane's ruined body and without preamble, hollered, "How dare you!" at Valentin with shock and fury. She went right up to the big man and recklessly slapped him viciously across the face. "Who do you think you are?!" she snarled, her face flushed.

Valentin didn't answer her challenge immediately, but wiped his chin with one hand. He smiled a wicked smile that only grew larger as he took her in. He towered over her, enjoying his superior height and laughed, amused in some sick way by her blatant lack of respect. "You look good, Fallen." He licked his lips in anticipation, his eyes gleaming.

Fallen just glared at him and fearlessly held her ground. "Who do you think you are, coming in here like this and slaughtering your own people?" she repeated, demanding his answer.

"Who am I? I am first General and may do as I please." He clearly wanted to avoid talking about Kane and discuss more personal matters, his eyes roamed over her with unveiled sexual interest. He purred at her, "It's good to see you again, my pretty. It's been a while. Did you miss me?"

Valentin was looming over her, trying to prove just who was boss here, but Fallen wasn't having any of it. She raised her tiny fists and defiantly hissed at him like a cat, showing him her long canine teeth. She had no fear of him and it seemed inevitable that they would come to blows just as he and Kane had done. Logan couldn't wait to see it. Fallen didn't have a restraining collar so he figured she would use her powerful telekinesis against Valentin and get them all out of this. It was going to be awesome watching the man get his comeuppance. He couldn't wait to see Valentin go for a flight. It was sure to be glorious and oh so satisfying.

Still, if the pair was going to fight, they were taking their time sweet damn time about it. Valentin was amused by Fallen's defiance and continued to freely undress her with his eyes. He dared to reach out and touch her chin and smiled when she jerked away from him in disgust. He continued to bait her, saying, "I see your jaw has healed since our last meeting, how nice. Time again to put that mouth of yours to good use."

Amazingly, Valentin started to unbuckle his pants and Logan was stunned. Didn't this guy know who he was dealing with? Fallen was going to pound him into next week.

"You put that in my mouth and I'll bite the fucker off!" Fallen warned, meaning it. She made no move against him, though. She simply stood her ground, unyielding.

"Hmm....We have ourselves a bit of a problem, then don't we?" Valentin teased, his voice still hard and amused. He slid his belt off, letting it rasp through his thick and callused hands before dropping it to the ground. "Whatever shall we do?"

Logan grinned in anticipation, he couldn't help it. If there was going to be a fight, surely it was going to happen now. There was no way that someone as blessed with abilities as Fallen was was going to let this brute of a man follow through on his threats of sexual misdeeds to come.

Valentin, done with waiting, finally started it. He arrogantly bent to kiss Fallen, so very sure of his own authority to do so, and she spat in his face. She was a good shot, her large wad of spit went right into his left eye. He snarled in exasperation and impatience, and savagely punched her in the face with as much force as his sprained wrist would allow. Unfortunately, it was still quite a bit.

Fallen's legs buckled from the blow but to her credit, she didn't go down. Having been on the receiving end of that fist, Logan was amazed she didn't fall. Even more stunning was that she had allowed the blow to connect at all. Where were her shields? No telekine worth their salt would have allowed that fist to ever touch them. What the hell was gong on here?

_Damn....._ Logan cursed to himself as it finally dawned on him what he should have already known from the fearful reaction of Maylee and the twin personalities on the ship to Valentin's arrival. With dismay he understood now that this was some kind of brutal ritualized dance that Fallen and Valentin had done before. Logan had seen enough repeat offenders in the battlefields of domestic violence to now see this for what it was. Fallen wasn't going to stop this or even help them at all.

Oblivious to what the others around her might have though of her, Fallen stood and laughed as blood now poured freely from her nose. It wasn't broken, but he'd split her lip. Her eyes were crazed, wild, and no longer sane.

"Just like old times, eh Fallen? Old times..." Valentin said wistfully, his smile huge now with the victory she had just given to him without so much as a fuss. He caught her hair in his good hand and dragged her towards Kane's tent. She feebly tried to slap and claw at him with her hands but he just ignored it. He roughly tossed her inside the tent and followed, closing the flap behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Logan watched them go, furious at how all this had turned out so badly. His sensitive ears couldn't block out the sounds that followed of Valentin beating and raping Fallen inside the tent. She was snarling and crying, still fighting him, her oppressor grunting happily all the while. It was horrible, but Logan thought Fallen's acceptance of his abuse was worse. With her powers, she was stronger, she should be fighting him off.

Wolverine looked over at Remy when he heard his teammate make a small noise. Gambit was looking at the tent, his demonic eyes glowing with barely controlled fury. His mouth was a thin tight line as he held back the sounds of his outrage.

Remy was secretive and had remained something of an enigma to his teammates ever since he had arrived at the Xavier Mansion just a few short years ago, but some things had been made clear pretty early on. Remy was a creature of sensuality, something he pursued relentlessly and with great style. Intimacy was something he clearly enjoyed, but most of all respected. He tolerated sexual abuse no better than Logan, often going out of his way to rescue those he thought might be in distress with no regard to his own personal safety. Being so helpless now was driving the Cajun thief to a near frenzy. He was wordlessly wringing his hands in a futile attempt to escape the glowing energy cuffs that bound him. It wasn't going to happen.

Gambit wasn't alone in his distress. Henry sat quiet, his eyes closed and breathing in calm deep, meditative breaths. Wolverine could only admire his friend's resolve. Unable to stop what was going on, Beast was doing his best to shut out what could only drive him deeply into a helpless despair. It didn't mean he didn't care, he was a doctor after all, with a few unpleasant ideas of what Fallen was going to look like when all of this was done. She would need medical attention and if he could, he would help her. For now, he would calm himself now to preserve his superior wits for later. There would be a reckoning.

The sounds of Fallen's pain and abuse lasted the better part of an hour. In the meantime, as the night darkened and the moon rose, Valentin's men were bored and amused themselves by terrorizing Kane's people. They slaughtered the men and raided their food stores. The women fared much worse. The children ran off into the scrub, but weren't chased. Valentin's men knew they wouldn't go far out here in this desolate waste. The three X-men were guarded by a large group of soldiers and unable to interfere. When Valentin finally left Kane's tent, he looked around him, satisfied. He had wanted to teach Kane a lesson and had done so to his immense satisfaction.

"Yer one sick bastard!" Logan snarled. "What kind of leader are you?!"

Valentin walked over to him, bringing the sharp, ugly scent of Fallen's sex and blood with him. "I'm the kind that gets results, little man. This is a vicious world. Only the strong survive here."

"You'd get more done if you didn't kill yer own people!"

"Would I? They obey me unquestionably. Of course, I am not always this cruel," he commented casually, looking around. "Kane tried to take something that was mine. I made it very clear that will never be tolerated. Surely a beast like you understands the concept of territory."

"Sick bastards like you always fall. I hope I'm there to see it."

Valentin grinned malevolently. "Maybe you'll get that lucky, but I doubt it." He looked down at Logan and recognized him for the warrior he was. "We've got some plans for you boys. Fight with us and things could go very well for you. I've always got a need for alphas who can deliver."

"I'll never work for an asshole like you. Yer pathetic, beatin' up on a woman like that."

Valentin glanced back at the tent. "Oh, that?" He grunted a laugh and had a strange, almost sorrowful look on his face. "Fallen likes that, she always has."

Logan shook his head, not believing Valentin's act for a minute. "No woman ever asks for that."

"Fallen is no ordinary woman," Valentin said, almost lovingly. It was disturbing to hear, like fingernails on a chalkboard. "She and I go way back. We have an....understanding, she and I."

"Don' make it right."

"It is what it is, nothing more."

Valentin gave a command and the X-men were dragged back to the Lucky Dragon. Logan and Remy struggled valiantly, refusing to give in without some kind of fight. Remy lashed out with his feet and tried to twist himself free. He was very flexible, weasel clever in his way. It wasn't enough. He was held fast, viciously slapped about as a reward for his defiance, and in his weakened state, not able to do much about being herded along. Ragged French, no longer so elegant when chocked with ugly, wrathful profanity, came from him in a scathing torrent until he was finally punched viciously enough to silence him. He had no choice but to give it up and take Henry's path, saving the fight for another day.

Logan had no such desire. He spared his mouth the same angry words and simply used his teeth instead. He bit one of Valentin's men savagely, tearing his arm open and was brutally beaten for it. Still he fought, holding out much longer than Remy had. The fight was savage and brutal, recklessly spilling more of his own blood than that of his captors. They were not restrained by either shackles nor their Master's will, ever so willing to punish. It was an effort, it took three of Valentin's men to finally subdue Logan and then only by kicking him until he passed out.

Valentin just laughed all the while at the display of X-men ferocity, his sick and twisted psyche entertained by the whole thing. Logan's wildness would be an asset once it was bent to his will, and he was pleased. He paid no apparent mind to the passive blue Beast, but inwardly he knew better than to underestimate one such as this. Obviously this was the clever one, the brains of the operation if not the brawn, not like the two scrappy fighters that had put up all that fuss. What was this one thinking? Silent but most often deadly, clever men were. He would watch this one, see if his suspicions of Henry's superior intelligence played out.

Valentin had the three X-men dragged into the Lucky Dragon and chained to the outside of Fallen's cage in the Main Room, facing the viewing screen, and went into the galley to eat. His men walked around Fallen's ship as if it belonged to them and behaved as if all this violence was a normal every day thing for them. It probably was.

Eventually the hour grew late and things quieted. Valentin came to look at his prized mutant captives one last time before he left for the night. He said nothing more to them but thoughtfully rubbed his now bandaged wrist for a moment before he and his men went back outside, leaving the captives unattended for now. He apparently wasn't concerned about them getting loose.

When she was sure Valentin was gone, Maylee snuck out from the lower level and crept over to the restrained X-men, carrying a small box with her. As soon as she opened it Henry was relieved to see it was a medical kit, something they very much needed right now. Logan hadn't moved once since they'd been lashed to the cage, not a good sign.

"Seth, are you there?" Maylee whispered, looking over her shoulder to the big viewing screen.

Seth and Kimble's portions of the screen had been blacked out since the captives had been dragged in here, but they now winked on. Seth was alone and seated in his chair. "I'm here," he answered her, looking around the Main Room nervously. "Where's Fallen?"

"Still outside," she replied. She started to cry, but fought it. "Help me. Help me with them," she pleaded, meaning the X-men. Logan's face was dripping blood and he was still out cold, not moving.

Gambit was faring better in that he was still conscious. He sagged weakly against the cage, held up by his restraints as he stared numbly off into space. His face was bruising where he had been struck and there was a tight ring of agony around his ribs when he breathed. Judging by all the damage he had suffered here, this wasn't going to be one of his better trips.

"What do you want me to do?" Seth asked in a small, frightened voice. He kept glancing to the door leading to the outside ramp. It was still open meaning Valentin could return at any time.

"I need to do a scan."

"Okay."

Maylee took out a small strip that looked like a Band-aid and placed it on Logan's forehead. A light flashed from under it and winked out. Medical information scrolled up on the screen and Seth read it off. "He's got massive internal trauma and bruising. His skeleton is metal -- I don't even want to know about that.... Hey, Maylee. Just take his collar off."

"Valentin will kill me!" she squeaked with very real fear. Her hands were trembling badly."Only do it for a minute," Seth pleaded. "Just enough for him to recover a little bit."

"He's right," Beast concurred. "Logan can heal. It's his power."

"How do I get the collar off?" Maylee asked, relenting.

More information scrolled on the screen, showing details about the collar, including how to remove it. Maylee loosened it a bit until the little glowing light shut off. Almost immediately, Logan's injuries began to heal. His bruises slowly faded and he groaned, blinking blearily as he gradually woke up. He was better, but still in a lot of pain. It would take more than just this moment free of the collar to fully recover. He got onto his knees and looked around him, the soldier in him automatically trying to figure out what was going on and where he was. He looked up at the screen and saw Seth sitting there looking fragile and terrified. The young pilot was obviously nervous and frightened, he still eyed the doorway behind them fearfully.

Henry hadn't noticed, he was asking Maylee, "Can you get the cuffs off of us?"

She looked to Seth for help, but Seth had frozen in terror. He was looking past her to the ramp that led outside, his eyes wide in fear.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

"Oh, Fallen!" Seth said in a pained whisper, his voice trembling. He hunched over in his chair with an inarticulate outcry of internal agony, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears as he had done before when he had been out as a hologram and was frightened. He'd shut himself down so he wouldn't have to look at her.

The X-men strained at their bonds, turning to look at what had spooked Seth so badly. Fallen was walking slowly towards the screen, a ragged ruin of pilot flesh. She leaned sideways as she shuffled her feet, dragging one foot stiffly behind her as she moved with methodical, determined slowness. Clearly, she had a destination in mind, and wasn't going to let her condition stop her from getting there. She pressed both hands against her lower belly as she moved as if her guts were falling out. Her head was down and her breath came out in ragged gasps, blood and spit dripped from her chin to the floor. She was naked and dried blood and dirt caked her furry legs and ankles in a dark black accusation of abuse. She shuffled drunkenly and wasn't looking where she was going, though she had determination driving her on. She kept walking past them until she bumped into the screen, arriving at last. She put up a hand to brace herself, but slid to the floor, leaving a bloody smear on the glass.

Maylee came out of her shock and rushed to her side at once. She cried out in dismay when she saw Fallen's swollen bloody face.

There was a noise as Kimble burst into the cockpit room through a side door, his face tight with barely controlled emotion. He went immediately to Seth and found him cowering in his seat, swearing softly in exasperation at his brother's condition. He brushed a hand over Seth's head and spoke to him softly in an attempt to rouse him, but his brother didn't move. Kimble looked up through the glass and saw Fallen broken and bleeding at the base of the screen. "Get her a wet towel. Clean 'er up," he ordered to Maylee, his voice icy and eerily calm, considering the wildness in his eyes. She obeyed him and left for Fallen's lavatory in a rush.

Henry jerked in his bonds, the doctor in him horrified at the sight of Fallen's abused body. He couldn't restrain his own growl of frustration that he was now unable to move. He could bear being tied, but not when he knew someone was desperately injured and in need of his help. The only thing that gave him any comfort was knowing that Maylee was free and able to act. He would be quick to offer his advice if she needed him.

"Seth...? Seth, are you there?" Fallen called weakly, responding to the sound of Kimble's voice. She searched for him with her dirty, bloody hands, but found only glass. One of her eyes was swollen shut, the other was filled with blood.

"He's here, but he's all crunched up," Kimble grumbled. "Figgered he be used ta yer shit by now. Hope yer happy."

"Don't be angry..." she pleaded, unable to see him but all too aware of his anger.

Kimble leaned against his work table and snatched a pack of cigarettes from his console. He shook one out and lit it with an angry spark from his fingertips. The spark was blue like Fallen's magic pilot's energy, sharp and potent. Kimble wasn't angry, no. He was furious. His voice shook with emotion as he began to speak, threatening to break at any moment. "We take pretty good care of each other, right? You an' me. Heh, I mean yer helpin' us with cummin' out and I look after ya. Makin' shure ya git what ya needs. Keepin' ya safe, huh?"

He didn't wait for a response, but sniffed as angry tears started to shine in his eyes. He was trying to play the tough guy, but he couldn't hide how worried about her he was. "I do a good job, huh? I mean, ya tells me so, right? But you must be thinkin' I need another fuckin' challenge cuz look at ya, girl."

"Kimble, please!" Fallen gasped with a sob, hurt by his words.

It didn't stop Kimble's rant. He clearly had to unload his frustration with his Mistress and figured now was just as good a time as any. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and sniffed impatiently, defying the tears that shined in his eyes not to fall. "You tell me what ta do an' I do it, no questions asked. But I'm thinkin' ya musta missed a file I wuz suppozta get, cuz I just don't know how I'm suppozta take care a ya when ya keep doin' this shit ta yerself."

Fallen didn't answer, but stayed as she was, sobbing.

He shook his head in frustration and raised his voice. "Seth tells ya he's cummin' an you won't fuckin' run! Vally drops his pants an yer right there with yer mouth fuckin' open, Fallen! I mean, Jeez! What am I supposed ta do, Fallen?! You tell me cuz I got no fuckin' clue!" he finished with a snarl, his mouth grimaced and his eyes closed now, the only thing holding those treacherous tears at bay.

"Guys..." Remy croaked, his voice harsh with pain. He had come out of his stupor, brought back by the angry words flying around. He was squirming now in his awkward position, not wanting to be an audience to this argument. The emotions being displayed here were too powerful to be anything but real in his eyes. He found himself responding to all of Kimble's physical signs of distress, one small corner of his mind trying to figure out how something supposedly artificial could behave in such a realistic way. Ever the peacemaker, he couldn't stand it. "Arretez ceci, sil vous plait! Stop dis now!"

He was ignored. Fallen started to shake as Kimble had raised his voice in censure, his anger and pain hurting her even more than she was already. She sobbed now as she requested, "Play me something, okay? I'll.... I'll be all right."

"No way. Uh, uh. I an't doin' nuthin. Not 'til ya tells me why yer doin' this, ya fuckin' little bitch." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at her. "Tells me why!"

"I can't..."

"You tell me!" Kimble shouted bitterly, standing now and flashing his teeth in an angry snarl. He shook with his wrath, his hands fisted as he looked at her. "You tells me now! I've fuckin' earned it!"

"I can't...I can't..." she sobbed.

"Fine, then!" he spat impatiently and reached for the switch to sign off.

"No!" she begged, pawing at the glass. "Don't leave me...Don't leave me, please!"

He stopped, her pleas halting him. He covered his face with his hands for a moment, then wiped his face on his arms. His eyes were all red now and his nose was running. "Tell me why I shouldn't just shut down," he said quietly, his voice soft with defeat. "Why I should keep puttin' up with yer shit."

"Because you're all I have!" she cried.

Maylee came from the bathroom. She came towards Fallen but stopped abruptly when she saw the two of them were arguing. Even from the screen Kimble's anger frightened her.

"I need you here with me..." Fallen continued. "No one listens to me but you guys. No one helps me like you... Don't leave me!"

"Then helps me, baby doll. I needs ta understand, cuz I jus' don' fuckin' git it. Why do ya let him do this to ya? It's killin' Seth. He gets wrecked evra time an' I git stuck cleanin' up!"

"Because I did something really bad...Really bad...**Junta bay**...I have to be punished."

"Punished? Fer what? I've seen some pretty bad shit in my time, but you ain't ever done nuthin'. I ain't never seen you hurt nobody! What could ya do that wuz so bad thatcha deserve this?!"

"I can't tell you...."

"Why?!" Kimble snarled loudly, frustrated. "Don'tcha trust me?!"

"I trust you... I just couldn't bear it if you hated me..." she finished in a thready whisper, her body trembling all over now.

"Oh, baby doll..." he said then, a half sob escaping him. He released his anger in a long sigh, a tear finally spilling down one cheek. He leaned forward to put his shaking hands on the glass, reaching out as if he could touch her. He was very close to her now, his lips up against her ear as she rested against the screen. "I ain't never gonna hatecha. Not now, not ever. There just ain't no **junta bay** in the world that kin change that. We been together too long, you an' me."

"You would... It was so awful!"

"Tell me, Fallen," Kimble insisted, more tears streaming from his eyes now. "Please! I cain't hardly stand this!"

"I can't....I can't...I can't..!" she bawled and slid the rest of the way to the floor. She curled up, sobbing and covered her face with her tiny white hands. Maylee went to her then and started to clean her up, whispering to her foster mother gently in a feeble attempt to comfort her.

Kimble retreated to fell back into his chair in a sorrowful slump. He slowly shook his head and smoked, wiping the wetness from his face in a helpless gesture of defeat. He reached behind him and took a CD from a rack, obeying Fallen finally. He slid a very real looking compact disc into a player and soft music began to play. It was a silly song from Lovin' Spoonful, something about the rain and a roof.

Logan couldn't believe what was happening, it was like being trapped in a nightmare he couldn't get out of. Fallen was lying there broken, Seth was balled up and useless, and Kimble pissed off and crying like some little kid trapped in the body of a grown man. The figures up on that screen were not real, they were a program. A stupid fucking program placed there by some sicko pilot who obviously got off on some kind of melodramatic overload. Programs were there to make things better, not worse. This was a dysfunctional family operating on a scale he had never witnessed before. They should be trying to get away from here, not playing out this sick little soap opera. Cripes!

"Hey! Kimble! Dude!" Wolverine shouted up at the screen. "Vally ain't gonna leave us alone fer long. We gotta bail!" He snarled when he saw he was being ignored.

Fallen heard the music and garbled something unintelligible, laughing.

"Yer all fuckin' crazy!" Logan howled. He'd had enough of this insanity and yanked on his chains. "Alla ya! Fuckin' crazies!" He heaved on the cage and like an evil tease, it started to come apart in one corner, inspiring him to continue. Beast and Gambit saw what he was up to and then helped out, just as eager to escape their prison as he was. They weren't even close to being silent.

"Stop that!" Maylee shrieked in a panic. "If Valentin sees you he'll kill us all!"

"I ain't gonna be around that long!" Logan growled, jerking and grinning with satisfaction as something in the framing behind him groaned and broke.

"What a shame," Valentin sneered from the back of the room. "I was just getting used to having you here."

Logan put his head down and cursed.

Valentin entered the main room and walked up to Fallen. She just lay on the floor, trembling. He towered over her and gave her an arrogant sniff. "You stink, pilot." He didn't wait for an answer, but looked up at the screen. "I see you still have your freaks. Might have to do something about that."

"Fuck you, Vally!" Kimble snarled fearlessly, raising his fists.

Valentin just laughed. "You got a mouth on you, son. Too bad that's all you've got. Had yourself a nice little cry, did you? You fucking child!"

"Leave him alone," Fallen challenged from the floor as if she was in any position to stop him.

"Sure thing," Valentin grunted at her, amused. "For now. You'd best get straight, pilot. We leave for Station Nine in the morning. Shoot yourself full of junk, whatever it takes. No excuses."

He turned to go, but changed his mind. "Think I'll have my Second, Joseph, stay and keep an eye on these guys just in case you get any more ideas about taking off." He whistled sharply and Joseph came up the ramp, ever obedient. He stood and listened attentively as Valentin issued him orders. "Take six men. Camp out in the galley, whatever. I don't want these alphas left alone again."

"Yes, my Lord." Joseph left to collect his team.

Valentin turned his attention back to Fallen. He crouched down next to her with a disgusted sneer. He took her hair and mercilessly hauled her up to her feet like the possession he perceived her to be. He released her enough to be sure she could stand, then he leaned her head back, baring her throat to him. He leaned in and licked her neck with a long, slow flick of his tongue.

Fallen quivered from his touch and urine dripped down her leg. She was broken in every way that counted now.

Valentin didn't care. "It's was nice to see you again, my lovely. It's been so long."

Fallen didn't resist him, she simply stared off at nothing, her eyes glazed.

He desired a response. He kissed her full on the mouth, giving her his tongue. She roused some at the intrusion, sensing that she had to do something to please him, anything to satisfy his desire for dominance. She returned his kiss and he smiled, happy now. He next glared at Kimble who stood with his hands fisted and useless. "See? She's mine in every way that matters." He laughed and released her before turning and walking away, passing Joseph on his way out.

Fallen stood unmoving like a discarded toy, her eyes shiny and half open, her mind completely gone. Joseph sniffed her in disgust, saw her mess, and looked at Maylee cowering by Beast. "Get her cleaned up, girl. Heh, look at you. Getting big now you are," he said, his eyes glittering with evil intent.

"Don' even think about it, you cocksucking son of whore!" Kimble threatened with real enthusiasm. He sounded menacing, but everyone here knew it was an empty promise.

"You couldn't stop me even if you wanted to, freak, no matter how badly you swear," Joseph sneered in a good imitation of his Master. "You're nothing but a crybaby wannabe pilot with a foul mouth and even worse manners. You're not even real. Just what do you think a pathetic scrap of a program like you can do to me?"

Logan shook his head, a headache like a Texas thunderstorm threatening to split his head apart. He was beyond appalled at the behavior he saw today. "What kind of people are you?! I'm not sure who's worse, you or the Dognan creeps who brought us here in the first place!"

Joseph turned to him, the wattage of his evil smile never dimming a bit. "Well, it looks like you'll be around long enough to decide. Better get some rest. We leave for Station Nine in the morning."


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

The captured X-men didn't sleep well that night. They were still lashed to the cage and uncomfortable from being restrained for so long. They hadn't been given blankets or comforts of any kind, nor any food or drink. The constant, noisy movement of Joseph's men from one room to the next didn't help matters either. The night before, Maylee had cleaned up Logan as best she could and fled, following Fallen into the cage lavatory. They hadn't seen her since.

Gambit sat with his back to the cage and his arms still pinned up high. His shoulders ached from the lack of movement and his ass hurt from the hard metal floor. It hadn't kept him from doing his job. He was watching the Clansmen carefully as they had milled about, looking for weaknesses, but finding nothing he could use.

He found himself glancing up at the screen every so often, waiting to see when Kimble would return. The Kimble personality intrigued him and he was welcome for the distraction to his current situation. He was impressed at the depth of Kimble's sympathy and pain towards Fallen after her abuse and wondered just how it was that an artificial personality could seem so real. Whoever had created the program itself must have been an advanced race, more intelligent than the folks back home anyhow. Even the holograms the X-men used to train with back home never behaved as realistically as Kimble and Seth did. Remy had watched some of the students playing computer games and such and even then had never seen anything that came close to what he'd seen here. Remy didn't have a lot of close friends and the idea of having someone always around like Fallen did struck him deep inside. What could be better than a friend you've programmed to always be around whenever you needed them?

Gambit didn't share Maylee's view that Kimble's show of misery at Fallen's mistreatment was a bad thing. If anything, it made him like Kimble even more. It showed a depth to his character that made him seem more lifelike and human. He clearly wasn't just a plain jane personality designed to make a computer more interesting. He was complex and complicated, a puzzle to be figured out. Gambit was intrigued by games or anything that was used for fun and entertainment. Too bad this little journey wasn't for pleasure, he would have liked to getting to know Kimble a little better.

Beast was hunched next to Remy, quiet in his despair. They weren't getting out of this right away so he distracted himself by mulling over Fallen's fascinating little program. He was a technology junkie and loved anything as new and interesting as this sentient program. What fun they could have in the Danger Room training facility back home fi he were to somehow able to get a copy of this back home. He was also curious just how much control the twin brothers had over this ship and if they could be used to somehow get them out of this. No immediate ideas came to mind. Perhaps something would present itself later.

As a doctor, he was distressed over Fallen's treatment and wanted desperately to see her for himself so that he could know for certain that she was okay. It pained him to watch what had been done to her. Unlike the others, he lived a sheltered life because he stayed primarily in his lab. He wasn't often a witness to domestic violence since things were pretty stable back at the Mansion. There were strict guidelines regarding behavior and most of the people there were much too honorable to smack each other around over petty domestic squabbles.

The closest he'd seen to a total meltdown was a spectacular fight between Gambit and Rogue. Remy had gotten a little too carried away with the teasing and Rogue had gone off. She was invulnerable as well as unnaturally strong and she was tossing dishes and pieces of furniture at the playful thief, curses streaming from her mouth. Of course Remy hadn't helped things any, he couldn't stop from laughing and running his mouth off, saying, "Oh, chere. You know dis po' t'ief don' really t'ink yo' ass is **dat** big!"

A table had gone flying out through the window at that. Remy was quick and nimble when he was at full strength as he had been then, the table never hit him, nor did any of the chairs that followed, but he quieted after when the adults came running over. He knew they were so busted. Rogue had to be restrained and Remy got chewed out for instigating. He paid up the damages without having to be asked and walked off, grinning. He just never took anything seriously. Henry hadn't been so amused. He didn't like anything that could escalate into the violence he had witnessed last night.

Logan was on Henry's opposite side, grumpy and sullen at their predicament. Fallen's computer program didn't interest him in the least. The only thing he wanted was to break free and severely kick Valentin's ass for doing this to them. He was forced to satisfy his frustration by growling menacingly as the Clansmen passed by, hoping to get a rise out of someone. Maybe it could be used to get them a hostage or something. It wasn't working. For the most part they ignored him, but whenever Joseph came by, he would kick Logan with his heavy booted feet in a useless attempt to make him be quiet. Logan wasn't giving an inch, not to these guys. When he thought no one was looking, he would try to work part of the cage loose. It was taking too long, but he just couldn't sit by and do nothing. This trip had been one huge exercise in frustration.

The control room block of the viewing screen was dark and Fallen's bloody smear was still on the glass, no one had bothered to clean it and it clung there as a constant reminder of how volatile their new situation was. Not long after Fallen had disappeared into her lavatory with Maylee, Logan had heard Seth talking to her in there, but couldn't make out what was being said. It was quiet in there now. He hoped she would be okay, but wasn't disillusioned about the severity of the beating she'd received. He'd been on the receiving end of too much violence and abuse to know she had been hurt, inside and out.

Logan looked up and growled as Joseph once more came out of the galley. Joseph looked well rested and chipper, a bright easy smile on his face. Valentin's Second looked down at his captives with all of the glee of the truly in charge. "Sleep much? No? Too bad. You've a busy day ahead."

At that moment, Valentin came up the ramp. He, too, looked well rested from the previous night's activity and happy. His long red hair was wet as though he'd taken a wash in the river close by and he smelled of the outside and breakfast, making Logan's stomach growl. His wrist was still bandaged, though. He wasn't a quick healer or anything. He slammed the fist of his good hand against the wall of Fallen's lavatory as he passed and shouted, "Move your ass, pilot! You got ten minutes!"

He entered the main room and stood next to Joseph. His Second looked at his master with a kind of adoration that turned Logan's stomach, he never had much love for zealots. "They still live, Master," Joseph commented in jest. "But are not so spirited as yesterday."

"Good, perhaps they are capable of understanding just where they stand." Valentin turned to the men chained to the cage and said, "Welcome, gentlemen, to your first day in the service of the Clan."

"I don't serve nobody," Logan sneered. "Least of all bullies like you."

"You'll learn."

Valentin started to say something else, but turned to the screen when the cockpit block winked on, showing Kimble seated in the control room. He was alone, Seth was nowhere in sight. He showed no sign of strain or distress from the night before, but then, he supposedly wasn't really real. He deliberately ignored Valentin as he began working, flipping switches as he warmed up the ship. The floor started to hum under the X-men as Lucky's engines came on.

"Freak," Valentin muttered.

"Mornin', Vally," Kimble drawled arrogantly. He met the other man's eyes and lit a cigarette, his movements comfortable and at ease. He sat back in his chair with his arms behind his head, his work done for the moment.

"You are so very bold aren't you?" Valentin sneered, his voice full of menace. "We'll see how you hold up when I pull your plug. Won't be long now."

Unfazed, Kimble just grinned and said, "Life's a funny thing, Vally. Not evrathin' happens the way ya think."

"How would you know, freak? You're not even alive. Never were. Soon enough, you won't be anything at all."

Kimble laughed at that with real humor, the man's threats hadn't frightened him in the least. "If yer so shure 'bout me, Vally, why're you even threatenin' me? Huh? Seem a little nervous or sumpthin'."

"I'm not afraid of you. I have your precious Fallen. It's you who should be afraid."

"I'm just a program, Vally. Gots no reason." Kimble's eyes were laughing. If Logan didn't know any better, he'd say Kimble was in control of some secret weapon that he was going to whip out at any moment. He was deliberately baiting this monster.

"Why do you encourage him, Master?" Joseph asked with disdain. "He'll be unbearable."

Valentin glared at the screen. "Soon, freak. Soon."

Kimble blew Valentin a kiss and smiled all the brighter when he heard Gambit chuckle at it. He watched as Valentin cursed at him and stomped away into the galley, Joseph in tow. Kimble grunted in amusement and went back to work, giving Remy a quick wink in appreciation for the support.

"You think that's such a good idea, talkin' to him like that?" Logan grumbled at Kimble. He wasn't happy about Remy's laughter either, he didn't want Kimble to be encouraged enough to get them into any more trouble. "What if he takes it out on us?"

"Yer too valuable," Kimble replied without looking up. " 'Sides, he expects it from me. Don' wants ta let 'im down."

At that moment Fallen emerged from the lav. She had washed and put on fresh clothes, looking a hundred percent better than last night. Her face was still swollen and bruised and it looked as though she could only see out of one eye, but she walked with a steady stride and jumped lightly onto the stick.

"Good morrow, Fallen," Kimble greeted from the screen. He smiled warmly at her.

"Good morrow, Kimble. Prepare to boost in ten." There had been a slight slur to her speech as she had given her commands. Logan didn't need to hear it to know she was stoned on painkillers, the smell of an opiate based narcotic wafted off of her skin. She was high now and feeling no pain.

"Boostin' in ten, aye."

Kimble started flipping more switches. He was calm and at ease in his chair and appeared to be experienced in preparing the ship for flight. He was confident and didn't ask Fallen for anything as he worked. He did occasionally glance at the men tied to the cage, but said nothing to any of them.

A short time later, another group of Clansmen came up the ramp and sat in the seats. None of them were from Kane's camp, these were all fighters and Valentin's officers, including Reese. Not all of them had washed as Valentin had and there was now a tang of sweat, dirty leather, and testosterone in the air. There was the clinking of swords and other weapons as they stowed their gear.

Valentin and Joseph came out from the galley and the feral teleporter joined them in the seats. He didn't take a seat himself, but crouched at his Master's feet, laying his head in Valentin's lap like a dog. His Master lay a hand there and petted him gently, thinking nothing of how odd it might look. The last of the gear was finally stowed away and the ramp was raised. There was a loud bang as the inner hatch was sealed.

"Boostin' in two," Kimble drawled. It didn't look like Seth was going to join him for their departure. His chair remained empty and Kimble made no move to call him out from where he was hiding.

"Boosting in two, aye," Fallen replied. She pulled out a cigarette from a small jar wired to the cage and lit it with a sharp blue pop from her fingers. She took a deep relaxing drag and blew smoke out of her nose. She leaned on the stick, relaxed.

Moments later a mechanical male voice chimed in. "Boost sequence initiated." A clock appeared on the screen counting down. Fallen crushed out her butt into a nearby ashtray and gripped the bars of her pilot stick like a bike.

Kimble counted down. "Ready, steady...**Boost**!"

At his command blue electricity, like flames, burst from Fallen's hands and was absorbed into the stick itself. Fallen's power was far and away the stronger of the two pilots the X-men had seen flying a ship and Beast couldn't help but jerk away from where he was chained to the cage, he was closest to her stick and had felt the power of it. Thankfully the burst of flame was bright but brief. It left a strange smell behind, almost like ozone, and he could feel some of the hairs rising on his neck as if there were a static charge in the air.

"Boost sequence complete," Lucky chimed again. "Do you wish to continue?"

"Yes," Fallen answered.

"Launch sequence initiated."

"Launchin' in two," Kimble announced.

"Launching in two, aye." Fallen looked at the X-men with as pleasant a smile she could muster in spite of the damage done to her face. "Welcome, X-men, to the Lucky Dragon. Now Lucky, he's kinda peppy when he goes so you might want to grab onto the cage real tight now."

Some of the Clan soldiers laughed at her words. Wolverine remained as he had been (real men don't need to grab), but Gambit hung on with one hand, grasping the wires of the cage as tightly as he could. Henry dismissed the warning, he was too busy watching Kimble with rapt fascination as he moved about the control room.

Kimble counted down once again. "Ready, steady...**Launch**!"

Blue flame once more exploded from Fallen's hands and the ship lurched powerfully upward. Wolverine cursed and had to scramble to keep from sliding as Henry's much larger body crashed into his. Logan could now feel a strong vibration under him from the lower level then a thump as the landing gear closed. Fallen closed her eyes a little and Logan felt the ship stop rising and then surge powerfully forward. They banked a little to the right and then leveled out, moving at what had to be incredible speed.

"G-Force stabilizers activated," Lucky announced. The X-men stopped sliding around and heaved a sigh of relief. "Launch sequence complete."

"We gots two hours 'til we reach Nine," Kimble said.

"Two hours, aye," Fallen replied.

The Clansmen unbuckled and began milling about, some heading into the galley looking for refreshments. Joseph and Valentin went into the barracks with some of the other men. Fallen stayed where she was but leaned her head against the post. She rested her elbows on the bars of her stick, comfortable. Small flickers of blue flame wrapped themselves around her arms and were absorbed by the stick, she was still powering the ship even from this relaxed position.

Gambit wiped his mouth on his shoulder, still trying to recover from the quick launch. He was impressed with her power and ability and being a big fan of carnival rides and roller coasters, he had enjoyed it immensely despite being tied to the cage. "Dat's one wild wild ride, chere!"

Fallen closed her eyes with soft snicker. "Yeah, it's a real trip."

Logan hadn't been all that thrilled with the ride, he didn't share Gambit's love for such things. He was still on the job, looking for an opportunity to get loose. He didn't know what he could do, but he was hoping that he could force Kimble to help them if he could grab a hold of a hostage– preferably Fallen since the Kimble program seemed to care about her so much. Either way, he wasn't about to sit here without trying something.

An idea bloomed in his mind and Wolverine squirmed, complaining, "I gotta take a leak!"

Fallen turned towards the seats, Maylee was still there. "Get Joe for me, Honey."

Maylee got up and walked into the galley. She came back alone. "Joe said to make him use the bucket."

Fallen grunted. "Nice. You know where it is."

Maylee went into Fallen's lav and returned with a plastic bucket. It seemed so out of place with all the men here wearing swords and such. She put it down in front of Logan. "Here."

Logan jerked his useless arms. "This ain't gonna be pretty..."

Maylee stepped back. "I'm not holding it for him!"

Kimble was snorting a little as he snickered, "Could be a problem!"

Fallen sighed. "Engage autopilot."

"Autopilot engaged, aye!" Kimble managed through hearty laughter.

Fallen stepped off the stick. She hopped up to the window that was cut out from the cage wall and onto the sill with a light and easy telekinetic burst of flight. Her movements were very bird like and graceful, her long time comfort with her power obvious. She was right above Beast and he ducked as she dropped down in front of Wolverine and turned to face him. "You gonna give me a hard time?"

He gave her a mischievous smile. "'Pends on what ya have in mind, darlin'."

Fallen sighed impatiently and stooped down in front of him. He could see the pupil of her one good eye was dilated. She was still high on something and a nice easy target. He was calculating the best way he might grab her when she surprised him by raising her hands and crossing them over her chest. He then felt a push pinning him down with his back against the cage as though he'd been draped with a heavy blanket. The cuffs fell off and he could feel his arms again, but he was now trapped against the fencing as though he hadn't been freed at all. He could pee into the bucket but that was all. She was using her power to hold him in place out of reach, something she should have done with Valentin but hadn't. Damn.

Maylee moved the bucket into place and Logan urinated. He hadn't been lying about that at least.

Fallen looked at the others. "Anyone else? It's a long way to the next gas station," she joked with a wan smile. She was very tired. She probably hadn't slept any better last night than they had.

They each had a turn and Fallen replaced the cuffs without touching them or coming close enough for them to reach her. Wolverine still wanted to know why if Fallen was so powerful, she allowed Valentin to brutalize her without a fight. It made no sense.

Once they were finished, Maylee left with the bucket to empty it. Fallen stood stiffly, hopped back into the cage, and resumed her position on the stick. She closed her eyes and relaxed with a sigh.

Kimble watched her protectively. "Ya wants th' stick back?"

"Nah. Too comfortable."

"Ya wants me ta play ya sumpthin'?"

"Sure."

Kimble reached behind him, but picked up the guitar this time instead of a music disc. He tuned it quickly and skillfully began to play. He sang in a soft but rough, growly voice not out of place for the song. It was an old Dylan tune, Shelter From the Storm. He performed it very well, his voice as talented as his hands. Even some of the Clan men now paused in the doorway of the galley to listen. Kimble ignored them, he wasn't there for Valentin's officers, he was intent on pleasing his Mistress who was so tired and in such pain.

Fallen smiled. "Been a long time since I heard this one. Hmm.... When did you learn it?"

"The other day. Seth found the file, junked it. Kid ain't got no fuckin' taste, I swears. I dug it out ta learn it fer ya," Kimble boasted, pleased with himself.

"How did you know I would like it?" she slurred, drowsy.

The lights over Fallen's stick dimmed. "Been together much too long, you an' me, fer you ta be askin' me that," he answered, but she was already falling asleep. "**Fayed rowth, **my Fallen," Kimble whispered gently. His voice, so terribly angry just last night, was filled now with nothing but the purest love. He played for a few more minutes until he was sure she was all the way asleep then put the guitar away. The screen flickered and blacked out.


	7. Chapter 7

(Seven)

A short time later, Fallen startled awake with a gasp, drenched in a fear induced sweat. She'd had a terrible nightmare, one of many and certainly not the last. Valentin had provided her with plenty of material to work with on top of the full plate the Dognan had dished out for her already. She straightened up on the pilot's stick and groaned. Her earlier high was gone and she was now very sore.

"Good morrow, Fallen," Kimble greeted. He had returned just before she woke.

"Uhnn...Good morrow, Kimble. Where are we?"

"Ten minutes ta Nine."

Fallen stretched, still balanced on the stick. She looked down at the X-men. "You guys okay?"

"Just ducky," Logan grumbled irritably.

Valentin came down the hallway. The lights brightened. "How close are we?"

"'Bout ten minutes out of Nine," Fallen answered.

"Good. I can't wait to get out of this crate." He moved over to where the X-men were chained. "Did you enjoy your little trip? Enjoy our fine Clan transportation?"

"You people're all crazy," Logan complained bitterly. "We won't serve you!"

"Oh, yes you will. You will if you ever want to see your home again. My guess is Cerebus will make you an offer you won't refuse."

"Why should we believe you gonna bring us back, neh? You don' 'xactly inspire confidence," Gambit countered.

Valentin grinned an evil, wicked smile. "You don't fight, you're useless to us. Useless things have a way of dying painfully around here. You don't want to find out how, son."

"You gonna 'ave to work 'arder dan dat to scare me, vous encule de mere," Gambit snapped, his ruby red eyes glittering with arrogant anger. "Gambit ain't no petite fille you can shove around. Let's pull off dese chains, see who's gonna be sorry."

Valentin wasn't impressed. "Your weakness is surpassed only by your stupidity, alpha. Have a care, boy. I took you down easily already, I can do it again. You already got one fine cut to your pretty little face, would be a shame to get another." He then turned to Fallen. "Open a hailing frequency. Have your freak here---" he gestured at Kimble "--call up a squad to meet us at the hanger bay. Inform Cerebus that our little trip was a success."

Fallen nodded at Kimble. "Do it."

"Aye, Fallen." Kimble picked up a headset radio from next to him and began to speak into it.

Valentin walked over to join some of his men who were returning to their seats. The rest of the Clansmen came out from the galley, laughing and smelling of food and beer. They were returning to port and the men were glad. After months outside in the wild fighting the Dognan, none of them felt comfortable in Fallen's strange ship.

Lucky announced, "Clan Station Nine ahead. Prepare to port."

The Clansmen took their seats and The X-men were wary and alert, not knowing what to expect next. Meanwhile Fallen and Kimble negotiated their landing into the hanger of the large Clan military station. The two were an organized team, working together like a well oiled machine. The landing was smooth and well co-ordinated and it wasn't long before the X-men felt the ship touch down onto solid ground. The Clansmen rose from their seats and began to organize themselves and their belongings, getting ready to depart. There was a loud hiss as the Main hatchway of the Lucky Dragon opened up and the ramp lowered down, allowing warm air from outside the ship to trickle in.

A squad of fresh soldiers entered the ship and the leader spoke with Valentin, gesturing to the prisoners as he asked Valentin questions. He knew they were alphas from the restraining collars they wore and was cautious about how they were to be handled. Valentin wanted them taken to a holding cell to be processed. They wouldn't be there long, Logan heard him say something about them meeting Cerebus later this day.

The squad approached and the X-men were dragged to their feet. Gambit groaned as his legs were shot with pins and needles and he leaned into Beast who did his best to hold him up. His head throbbed as his headache threatened to return. Even Logan was a bit wobbly. With no healing factor, he was all pins and needles as well. They weren't given much time to recover, each X-man got his own double escort and was dragged none too gently down the isle towards the outside hatch.

As they passed her on the way out, Fallen spoke to them, her eyes sad and tired. "Good luck to you. Perhaps we will meet again under better circumstances."

They didn't get a chance to respond before they were roughly escorted out to the hanger bay.


	8. Chapter 8

(Eight)

The X-men were brought down the ramp of the Lucky Dragon and out into the hanger. Henry looked up at the Lucky Dragon as he walked out, he wanted to see what the vessel looked like without the camouflage. Lucky was sleek and beautiful, a nice shiny silver like a dewdrop. _Lucky must just slide_ _through the air like a penguin through water,_ Henry mused to himself, the scientist in him whirling into action. Lucky was crescent shaped and looked smaller than he had seemed from the inside. The layout of the rooms inside had provided the best use of space and he had been well made. Henry wondered where the engines were, they must be large to be so powerful, but Lucky just didn't seem big enough to house them.

Beast went on to give his new surroundings a much closer look and was startled when he realized that the hanger was actually a huge cave. The walls were carved from rock, probably some kind of limestone or granite, and the smell of damp stone was everywhere. The walls were grey and sparkled with minerals. In spite of being underground, the hanger was very warm and humid.

The hanger itself was massive, it must have taken a long time and a monumental effort to shape it out of the rock. There were several large cargo ships parked inside and even a squad of smaller scrub fighters that must have been stolen from the Dognan judging by their markings. It looked like the marks had been partially painted over as the Clan wanted to claim the ships for themselves, but the Dognan marks could still be seen. The Lucky Dragon was unique in the hanger, the other ships parked here were large and bulky, more of what one would expect from people who didn't seem to have full knowledge of the technology they were using. Henry wondered if they required pilots to be flown as well. The more pilots there were besides Fallen, the better their chances were for getting out of here.

He also observed that there were a lot of Clan men milling about. They were all dressed in the same black leather pants and boots as if there were some sort of style norms here, perhaps as a way of keeping order. Bare chests, long pony tails and tattoos were everywhere. Henry didn't have Logan's sensitive nose, but he could smell the stink coming off of them. Apparently, hygiene was not a priority with these people or they simply didn't have the proper means to maintain it. The smell of sweat and dirty leather was worse here.

Another squad of Valentin's men marched up and greeted their Master with salutes and hand shakes. Valentin gave the order and they surrounded the X-men, taking them into custody and forming an escort. They were led through the bay and placed into a nearby holding cell. There Henry and Gambit's wrist cuffs were removed but not Wolverine's, clearly he was the bigger threat. The cell was locked and they were left alone for a moment to enjoy this new environment.

The cell was dirty and didn't look like it had been used for a long time, lucky them. Beast didn't know if that was good or bad, but he certainly had no desire to stay in here for long. The idea of anyone being held routinely here unsettled him. It was disgusting. A filthy toilet crouched uninvitingly in one corner and a cot with rotten, ragged blankets was in the other. He was appalled by the conditions. "My, God! Don't these people ever bathe!"

Logan sniffed around him, making a face. "I don't get it. They can carve out a place like this, but live like savages."

Henry was actually impressed that Logan had articulated what he himself had been thinking. With the odd mix of technologies they've been seeing, it seemed more like the Clan were the lucky beneficiaries of someone else's handiwork that got left behind somewhere. Still, Beast hadn't realized Logan was quick enough to pick up on something that didn't have to do with fighting or military action. As impressed as he was with his teammate, he couldn't stop himself from complaining, "I certainly hope the whole place isn't like this."

"Don't worry, Blue. If I have my way, we won't be stayin' here long," Wolverine promised. He had no ideas to back up his words, but as bad as this seemed to be, they'd gotten out of worse scrapes than this.

Gambit sat down on the cot but jumped up when he saw the blankets were crawling with bugs. "Sacre' merde! Dis is ridiculous!"

Food was brought to them, but their hopes for full bellies were soon dashed. Henry grimaced when he saw it was half cooked meat swimming in grease. It was so foul none of them would touch it. Gambit paced away, feeling his stomach heave just at the sight of it. After a brief wait they were collected and taken for a long walk through the station.

Clan Station Nine was a massive warren of connecting caves, reminding Henry of stories he'd read of Dwarves building their huge kingdoms underground. The hallways and rooms had been painstakingly carved from solid rock and he never lost his admiration even after they'd gone a ways. Whoever had crafted it, it must have taken them years to dig it all out. What was disappointing was that for all the care it must have required to create it, the place was badly kept. The place was filthy with garbage and debris strewn about. There were no decorations and no colors except for the stony greys and blues of the stone walls. The more Henry looked about, the more he became convinced that his idea about the Clan inheriting this place from some else had to be correct. It would be the same as how they were using Dognan ships to move about. They hadn't built those ships but mastered the use of them on their own somehow.

All the people the X-men passed were unwashed and the stink was horrible. Beast truly began to fear that running water must not exist in here until they passed a courtyard with a large fountain in it. He could see no way that the water was being pumped, but it was spouting up into the air with enthusiasm just the same. It was surrounded by small shops constructed of wooden carts made from salvaged materials from the ruined city, Dognan markings were on the pieces of wood just as it had been on the ships. They didn't offer many wares, they mostly sold handmade clothes and weapons. There was another one selling bottles of beer and wimpy looking vegetables. The beer looked to be homemade and not shipped in.

There were some holes carved into the high ceilings overhead that had fans uselessly twirling the fetid air, but not enough to allow much light or ventilation. The main source of light came from torches and large biers of burning wood nearby, adding the odor of smoke to the already murky atmosphere. It was dim and smoky and Henry was already missing the fresh air of the Lucky Dragon. Even the pens seemed better than this as far as air quality was concerned.

It was clear early on this was a brutal, male dominated society. The men stood about loosely while women cowered behind them submissively. If an order was given, the women responded immediately or were openly beaten. The men fought and argued amongst themselves, shoving each other around, not caring if any innocents or children were harmed in their tussles. The X-men were carefully steered to avoid a sword fight more than once. There seemed to be little or no laws governing violent behavior. Fights and arguments with the use of foul language were constant to the new arrivals as they were led through a central part of what appeared to be a small town.

They saw fixed building shops and taverns constructed of more recycled wood from crates and bombed Dognan buildings. Everywhere the men drank and smoked, filling the air with the stink of tobacco, booze and sweat. Clearly they were even less concerned about second hand smoke than keeping clean.

Things quieted down as the X-men were escorted to more private living quarters. Here there were almost no women and the men were more military in their attitude and appearance. They passed several obvious barracks and community dining halls and had to get past security check points. Squads of men and boys marched by them in an orderly fashion. All were carrying various weapons, mostly swords and bows. Some men of higher rank carried Dognan energy weapons and waited to be saluted by the lower ranking soldiers escorting them. Some officers stood by in amusement as the X-men were pushed and shoved along, they had seen alphas before and were interested in who these new ones might be. Henry, being so big and blue, caught a lot of attention and comments were made.

At last they arrived at a large meeting room. Judging by the security, Wolverine guessed they were about to meet someone of some importance. The room was large with high vaulted ceilings and the stone walls were covered with rich looking tapestries, the first sign of any art or decoration they'd seen so far. The tapestries were hand crafted and showed warriors and battle scenes. Torches were lit every so many feet making this room one of better lit they had been in so far. They passed many long wooden tables covered with maps and dioramas. Soldiers stood about, discussing strategies. A battle was being planned.

They were taken to the back of the room where there was a great open area with a huge throne. They were brought closer and forced by their escorts to kneel in front of a large powerful looking man. This throne was made of wood and covered with soft animal furs and the man seated there looked at ease sitting upon it as though he had been there for years. Next to him he had a huge broad sword kept in a stand within easy reach. He was covered in tattoos, including the Honor Sword as Fallen had and his long black hair was streaked with grey and tied back in the usual pony tail. He had a short beard cut in the Amish style with no mustache. His eyes were bright and watchful of them even though it was obvious most of his fighting days were over, he was easily in his fifties and had as many scars as he did tattoos. He was dressed in the plain leather pants of the Clan with no other signs of his rank besides his markings. Clearly this was a King with no need of robes and gold trinkets to rule his people, and Logan's respect for him went up a notch. He watched with curiosity as his guests arrived but didn't speak just yet.

Logan assumed this was Cerebus, the leader of these Clan guys and he couldn't wait to get this over with. If Cerebus wasn't into riches, he must be more of a politician, and if so Logan hoped he wasn't sleazy or cruel. Logan knew he would have to be cool here and hopefully something could be worked out to get them home. No matter what the deal was, they wouldn't be slaves. He would die first.

Off to the side of Cerebus, both Fallen and Valentin were settling down on furs. They had just arrived as well through an alternative entrance in the back. They sat in a place that seemed reserved just for them, the furs they sat on were especially clean and layered for comfort. Judging by their posture and the way they were received, Fallen and Valentin were clearly of a high and special rank. Joseph and some of Valentin's other men were standing patiently behind them and not given the same comforts.

Standing beside the throned man was a tall warrior, impossibly white like Fallen, but completely human in his appearance. Oddly, he had no tattoos except the highly prized Honor Sword which blazed brightly on his white skin. He leaned casually against the throne and whispered in his Master's ear. He was certainly Cerebus' Second and in full authority here. He turned to the X-men once they were settled and spoke in a loud and clear voice. "Welcome, X-men, to the Hall of the Great and Mighty Cerebus!"

Cerebus leaned forward to inspect them. "You are the mighty warriors I've heard stories of?" He laughed contemptuously and glared at Valentin. "Seem a bit small and weak to me."

"Uncuff me and we'll see," Wolverine challenged, keeping the arrogance to a minimum. He was hoping a show of force might make a good impression and earn them a better bargaining position.

Surprisingly, Wolverine's wish was granted. His cuffs and the restraining collar were removed by two servants. He rubbed his wrists, feeling his strength return and smiled at his freedom. He cracked his neck and shoulders, loosening up and he wondered if he was going to have to fight the old man. It wouldn't have been much of a contest, Cerebus didn't look like he would last five minutes against him. It didn't take long for his unspoken question to be answered.

"Antius," Cerebus said.

Antuis, the white slave and Cerebus' Second, came down from behind the throne and approached Wolverine. He casually walked around the smaller man, looking him over. He bowed at Logan respectfully and stepped into a fighting stance, ready. Logan bowed back in equal measure, surprised by his opponent's show of respect and civility, Logan had thought such things as honor and respect were dead in this place. He moved into his own stance and waited. A heartbeat passed and Antius went to it. He lunged quickly, fists flying. Antius was very fast and nimble, quickly reminding Logan of Gambit's own moves. When they sparred, Gambit was difficult for Logan to beat because of his speed and quick reflexes and Logan usually had to wear him down. The same would probably prove true here.

This fight was more like a gentleman's sparring match to Logan than a real battle. Antius gave a clean fight and did nothing underhanded or unsportsmanlike, not like Valentin's use of trickery and street survival tactics. He was very skilled and Logan took to wondering just how old he was. He seemed young enough, but he had Fallen's same ageless qualities. Antius was very strong and matched Logan's thundering pounding with heavy fists of his own. He didn't tire quickly either and it was clear this wasn't going to be a fast fight.

They spun, twisted, hit and kicked, each taking the other's measure. The deciding factor was of course Logan's factor. His healing factor. He could recover from Antius' blows in a way his opponent could not. It took almost twenty minutes before Antius hit the floor for the first time. It wasn't the last. Down and down he went, never cursing or growing angry. He was patient the way a teacher is when he realizes the student has surpassed him and it's now just a matter of time before the match is over.

When Antius breathed his last conscious breath of the afternoon and lay in a crumpled heap at Logan's feet, Logan looked down at the first man he truly respected since they started this stupid adventure. "Not bad," Logan said, grinning at Cerebus and cocking an eyebrow. "Got anything better?"

Cerebus was finally impressed. He snapped his fingers and Antius was carried off to be cared for. Logan grumbled as the restraining collar was replaced around his neck, but again showed some patience and didn't fight it. He knew his returned healing ability alone wouldn't be enough to break them free of this place.

Cerebus had Logan seated and turned next to Valentin and Fallen. "You have done well. Come, Fallen."

She stood and knelt before him. Her movements were slow and pained, yet graceful and well practiced. Cerebus started to say something but a frown crossed his face. He'd seen the damage to her face and it displeased him. He turned his scowl on Valentin. "What is this? I was told nothing of any battle taking place."

"There was a disagreement," Valentin explained. He squirmed, uncomfortable. Cerebus was clearly the one man he actually feared.

"While I know Fallen can be somewhat spirited and correction may be at times necessary, I will not tolerate damage to my First Pilot! She should be able to fly without discomfort at any time."

"I beg your forgiveness, my Lord. It will not happen again."

"I should hope not." Cerebus turned now to Fallen who hadn't moved at all during this discussion. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him, her chin up. "I am well, my Lord. Valentin's fists have done me no harm."

Logan was seated behind her now and he crossed his arms and shook his head with a snort. Why didn't she try to get Valentin called off? He had the feeling she could probably get Cerebus to do it. There was obviously something more going on here than he knew about.

Cerebus ignored Wolverine's rudeness, he spoke to Fallen instead. "Are you ready to fly for me again? I have need of you at Station Six."

"Yes, my Lord. I can depart at once."

"Very well, then. You may leave."

She bowed her head and rose stiffly, in pain. She turned and left, not meeting Logan's heated gaze as she passed.

Cerebus waited until she was gone and turned to Valentin who was still waiting. "You have done well, old friend. You will be rewarded. Is there anything you desire?"

"You know what I want."

Cerebus smiled. "Ah, yes. The pilot. Well, she still owes me a few more weeks. Perhaps when that is done you'll have what you ask for."

"Until then, I am ever at your service, my Lord."

Valentin was dismissed and walked out the way Fallen had gone.

Cerebus returned to his guests and looked at Wolverine in particular. "And you? Are you at my service?"

"That depends," Logan answered, once more rising to his feet to show he wasn't intimidated, collared or not. "We ain't gonna be no slaves. It's cool ya brung us out of the pens, but we ain't here ta fight no wars. Yer Valentin there made out like we was gonna just fall over fer ya, but that ain't happenin'. Not without a better reason than this," he said, tugging on the collar around his neck.

"Perhaps you haven't been properly informed of your situation. You are many miles from home. Not even in the same dimension. When you took that 'jump' on the Dognan ship you traveled across space and time, my friends. You are in our world now. You want to get home, you'll do as you're told."

Beast spoke up. "By what right have you taken us against our wills?"

"The right of survival. We are an oppressed society. The Dognan must be thrown down. The time to strike is very soon. We have only a few short weeks before the Dognan will send a large supporting army to defend what little they have left. We intend to make sure they have nothing to come home to. Once they see how we've driven them out, they will not return. There is nothing here for them. You will work with our strategists to prepare our defense. You will train our best warriors and I think you'll find the Clan learn very quickly."

"We ain't mercenaries," Wolverine growled.

"Of course, nor will you really be slaves. You will be well cared for and not chained as a proper slave would be. You will be instructors, teachers. It's for your own benefit really." He laughed when Logan cocked an eyebrow and snorted derisively again. "Don't believe me? Understand this. You defeat the Dognan here, it will prevent them from raiding your world as they do. Cerise has been the staging point for every raid on your Earth."

Logan just shook his head again. "How do we know that? Where's your proof?"

Cerebus was unaffected by Logan's attitude. "Don't want to take my word for that? All right, put that aside for the moment and let me offer this proposal. Anyone freed from the pens is usually expected to give a ten year term of service and they usually cheerfully agree. In your case, I'll make an exception. You help us fight, and not only will that term be waived, but I will see to it that you are returned home. Refuse, and I'll have you dumped back into the pens. Your choice."

Gambit wasn't the least bit pleased with how the conversation was going. Fighting a war, just or not, was not the way he had expected to earn a ride home. He was smart enough to know that not everybody came home from that kind of fighting. "Don' sound like much of a choice t' me, patron," he complained, speaking up for the first time.

"That's cuz it ain't," Wolverine answered. He turned to Cerebus. "We'll help ya out, but if you don't honor yer promise to bring us home, you will pay. Dearly." He popped his claws for emphasis, not caring that his hands split and bled to the floor.

Cerebus sneered, trying to hide his fear and surprise at Wolverine's hidden weapons. "I'm sure." He motioned to an aide. "Go with this man. He'll take you to be fed and quartered. We'll be seeing each other again soon."


	9. Chapter 9

(Nine)

The X-men were led away. The arm numbing energy cuffs were removed but the restraining collars were left in place, being newcomers, the Clan only trusted them so far. They were taken through a series of dormitories and given a temporary room. This small cave had been reserved for them near where the alpha squads were kept and it was explained to them that if they chose to join the alpha squad, they would be moved. The rooms there were better than this, they were promised.

Henry certainly hoped so. This room wasn't the least bit enticing. The walls in this room were rough hewn and as dismal as the rest of the place had been, no decorations of any kind. Being a cave, there were no windows and the only light came from two small torches and some candles.

The room had four small cots constructed of a rough wooden frame and a stuffed mattress of straw. Henry hoped they weren't infested but had serious doubts. The blankets were worn and thin, rejects from happier times. They were rough and made of some kind of woven yarn with plenty of holes, how nice. Henry was so big, it would've taken four or five to cover him but they only had one a piece. At least it was warm here, his fur would be enough.

There was a small bathroom to the back, or what passed for one here. It had no shower or bath, only a sink with an ancient hand pump to draw water. The toilet was little more than a outhouse in one corner of the room. At least it didn't smell, it must have been treated with something. A cracked mirror was over the sink. The floor was also stone with no coverings and had a layer of dust on it. They were the first ones to stay here in some time.

They would have no real privacy. The door was a large hanging leather skin with the fur removed. Anyone walking by would hear them talking so they would have to be careful what they said. A small dangling string of rocks was rattled to announce if someone wanted to enter. The Lucky Dragon didn't have much but it already seemed like a palace compared to this place.

The aide bowed and left them, saying another man would come to help them settle in.

"I 'ope dis war don' be lastin' too long. Gambit not likin' dis, mes amis," Remy complained as soon as they were alone. He didn't like the way the hard stone walls seemed to be closing in on him. He wasn't claustrophobic, but was very uncomfortable with the idea of living underground. He had grown up poor and hard before he'd been adopted and wasn't happy to be living so rough like it had been then. He had hoped to leave those times behind him forever. He looked at the bed and couldn't stop the shiver of revulsion that rocked him. His early poverty had made him clean, he didn't relish the idea of what might be crawling around in there.

"You and me both," Henry agreed, sharing Remy's sentiment. He saw no books or entertainment of any kind. How would he possibly keep his over achieving mind busy? He was no soldier, that was for sure, and he prayed for an early end to this or at least a nice vigorous rescue.

Logan said nothing, just sniffed at everything suspiciously. Rough living was not a problem for him, not for a man who'd spent years at a time running around the Canadian woods half naked. He felt for his compatriots, though. He knew this wasn't going to be easy for them and vowed silently to do his best to get them through this.

He turned when their rocks were rattled and watched as Henry pulled the skin drape back.

A servant with Cerebus' markings greeted them. "I am Zekian. I have been assigned to see to your needs," he explained. "I have brought a woman for you." He stood aside and allowed a small woman to pass by him into their room. She carried a cloth bag and a sleeping mat.

"I assure you that won't be necessary," Henry stammered.

"But of course it is," Zekian insisted. "She will clean for you and she will also be your guide. You must learn the facility and I will not always be available. Of course, she will also attend to you...in any way you may need," he finished suggestively. "We are aware that most alphas are very full of vigor, yes. You are very valuable to us and we will see you are cared for properly. She has been well trained and will surely satisfy you gentlemen."

Logan looked her over and sniffed at her. She was tiny, little more than a girl, and very pretty. A deliberate bribe. Of course she was a spy and they would have to put up with her. He grinned at her in irritation, showing his teeth, and she backed away nervously.

"Really, I don't see how this is necessary...." Henry tried but got nowhere.

"Surely, the three of you... Big, strong men... I could send for a boy?"

"No! No! This is fine," Henry said in exasperation. He smiled at the fool. "This is more than we could expect."

"Good then. I'll be back in the morning and give you a quick tour before we start working with Cerebus. Good morrow, gentlemen." He left.

Henry looked at their guest and smiled, trying to make her comfortable even though he most assuredly was not. "And what is your name?"

"Shawzy," she said softly with a demure smile. She was obviously well trained and submissive.

"Well....Shawzy. We seem to have an extra bed. You could sleep there."

She lay her mat on the floor in a corner. "It is not permitted," she said simply.

Henry looked at Gambit who shrugged. "No one would know. Surely that mat can't be comfortable," he insisted.

She smiled at him like he was an idiot. "It is not permitted. I will sleep here."

"As you wish."

Shawzy looked at them, lost in the uncomfortable silence that followed. "You wish to eat?"

"Sure. Dat'd be nice," Remy replied and beamed his charming smile on her. He offered her his arm and she took it eagerly, basking in the attention this handsome young devil was giving her. He doubted anyone had treated her so nicely and was quick to show her what a real gentlemen was. "You show Gambit everyt'ing, now, s'il vous plait. We got plenty of time, chere." He swept her out the door and Logan and Henry followed, laughing, Remy could charm anybody.

The military quarters seemed to be run like a commune with dormitories and large eating places. There were no private quarters, no stores, no taverns. She brought them to one of the less crowded dining halls and sat them down at a table. She left them to get their food from what looked to be a buffet style table in the back. She came back laden with trays and waited on them without eating herself

.Gambit wasn't surprised Shawzy didn't eat. The food was terrible. They were served greasy stringy hunks of meat with gravy. The meat was at least fully cooked, but not much better than the food from the holding cell. There were no real vegetables, just lumpy potato things. The Lucky Dragon was looking more and more like luxury living.

Gambit sighed and ate only from the bread they were given. Again, he was reminded of his days at the orphanage and felt a swell of depression sweep over him. He had done without food before and he would do so again. He had grown quite accustomed to the fine dining at the Xavier Mansion. They were given room and board for being on the team as well as a decent paycheck. The kitchen there was always well stocked and he loved to cook. He would often buy new cookbooks just to experiment and most of his teammates enjoyed what he came up with. Of course, he had a weakness for the spicy Cajun food of his native New Orleans and was an accomplished chef in that regard. He might not have been the most accepted member of the household, but when it was his turn to cook and the scent of cayenne pepper and fine wine came wafting out of the kitchen, he always had a full house at his table.

Logan gave up and dug right in with a grin. With his constitution, food was never a problem. He had been a soldier most of his life and the old ways still stuck — Eat while you can, when you can, because you never know when your next meal will be. He was already checking out the men around them, sizing them up and thinking of ways to get out of this. He hoped they wouldn't have to fight, but if it came down to it, he would look out for the others and keep them safe. He would bring them back alive or die trying.

Henry was ill just watching Wolverine eat and he picked at the bread with less enthusiasm than Gambit. He needed to lose some weight anyways, he teased himself. They were given a choice of beer or wine to drink, nothing else. He was a teetotaler himself and this was just another form of torture. The Clan had to be chain smoking alcoholics, he groaned to himself. Already he missed the comforts of the Lucky Dragon and the pleasant comradery between Fallen and her boys. This was going to be a long painful stay.


	10. Chapter 10

(Ten)

Henry slept poorly in his new bed. He simply couldn't get comfortable with no back support and these rough smelly blankets. It didn't take long for him to join the others on the floor. Gambit was out cold, snoozing deeply, but it had always been easy for him to sleep anywhere. Henry remembered the time he saw Remy dozing comfortably in X-men's Blackbird jet while standing up. They had been on a horrible mission and none of them had slept in days. Remy wasn't a soldier and didn't know diddly about flying the plane so he just grabbed a ceiling strap and zonked out right on his feet. They were making their great escape in the middle of a fire fight, surrounded by enemy fighters, but the Cajun thief never flinched or woke. The kid was strange.

Henry looked next to him and saw that Logan was awake as well. He was lying on his back staring into the dim light of one of the wall torches, scratching his belly absently with one hand. He looked like he was worried, but it was more of a matter that he was relaxed and comfortable and really wanted a nice cigar right about now. He hadn't smoked one in a while because of this trip and was sorely missing them. Logan turned to him with a small smile. "Somethin' on yer mind, Blue?"

"Not really. Just hoping this all turns out well. I don't think I'd like to make this my permanent residence."

"That makes two of us. Why don'tcha try an get some sleep? It's gonna be a long day tomorrow."

Henry grunted and rolled over. He was far more comfortable on the floor and soon dropped off into a dreamless sleep.

They were collected the next morning just outside their door by Zekian. He was to give them a tour of the areas where they would hopefully be working soon. "I'll show you around some and then we'll start working with some of the strategists," he said.

Zekian led them first to the arsenal. This weapons dump consisted of several large caves that were stockpiled with many different kinds of weapons and military supplies. The area was heavily guarded and they had to keep checking in with the guards when they passed from one room to the next. Henry and Remy hung back a bit, they knew nothing of these things and let Logan handle this.

Zekian brought them into the first cave of the arsenal where they saw some crates that were neatly stacked against the back wall. Like everything else here, they were made of wood and had Dognan markings on them. Logan was allowed to open one and he was quite surprised to see some land mines and grenades. They were ancient and looked to be World War II issue, but no less dangerous for being so. Land mines were not something he had considered here and he wondered numbly if the pens had been booby trapped. He was glad they hadn't been there long enough to find out, but if they went back out into the ruins, they would have to be careful.

"Where did you get this stuff?" Wolverine asked, not caring for how old some of this stuff was. His extensive training in the art of war made him painfully aware that old ordinance like this could be far more dangerous than new.

Zekian was quick to answer Logan's question. "Our First Pilot, Fallen, is very resourceful. She has been known to raid the Dognan storerooms now and again and when she finds stuff like this, she brings it back to us for us to use. Where the Dognan get it, I can't imagine." Zekian moved on, pointing out other items of interest. "We have mostly swords and bows, but we do have some Dognan energy weapons."

"You'll need more than what I seen here ta fight a war," Logan advised. "Ya wanna beat these guys, you gotta have the same weapons they do or better."

"That won't be a problem. Fallen just received some information regarding a shipment of weapons to be delivered to one of their storage houses and she is planning a raid. If she is successful, it will vastly improve our inventory."

Zekian led them further in where they next saw some laser cannons and demolition supplies. Powdered TNT and sticks of dynamite were in small boxes carefully labeled. There were even some cubes of C4 left haphazardly about, making Logan's fingers twitch in nervous irritation. He knew just how dangerous that stuff was, it was worse than those land mines he'd seen earlier. These fools were going to blow themselves to bits and hand the Dognan their victory without the cat guys even knowing it.

Logan had received extensive training in explosives and special forces operations. He knew how to construct bombs and their timers. He knew best how to place them and keep his people out of harm's way and he had an idea he was going to be instrumental in anything these guys had planned. This type of warfare was something the Professor discouraged and Logan had never taught a class like that at the school, but he'd never forgotten what he himself had been taught.

Zekian pointed to the dynamite and plastic explosives. "We have these but we don't know how to use them. We were hoping maybe one of you might be able to teach us."

Logan grinned in anticipation, the first place he would start was how to keep that shit locked up. Casualties were supposed to happen during the war, not before it due to stupidity. "I can help ya there, no problem."

In the last cave, there were neat rows of swords stacked and bows hung. They were homemade and not the nice modern weapons like he'd seen back home. The only good thing about them was that there were a lot of them in case they fell apart.

They then moved on to the training areas where the Clansmen were taught how to fight. Remy and Beast perked up a bit here, both had given self defense classes back at the Mansion and were curious how the Clan trained their men. One room was as spacious and open as the ship hanger. To make it easy to see in the darkness, the room was lit with torches and biers burning every few feet. They could see large squads of men performing martial exercises in a neat and orderly way. Each squad had a handler or trainer who walked among them carrying large bull whips. The sound of cracking and lashing was constant and loud, these handlers showed no mercy and were obeyed without question. You learned or got beaten, those were your options.

Logan couldn't help but growl softly at the sight of it. While he didn't exactly disapprove of corporal punishment for a glaring offense, if they tried to use the whip on him, someone was going to be in for a nasty surprise. He would jam that thing so far up the handler's ass, he'd be shitting leather for a week.

"Those are Valentin's men," Zekian explained, obliviously noting Logan's interest without realizing the guy was pissed off. "They are the most highly trained and the most skilled. He rules them with an iron hand and they love him. He is the greatest hope of our people."

Zekian showed them another area with large cubicles and mirrors. Here men sparred with each other in hand to hand combat. Henry was surprised to see some of the men working with holograms. He never expected to see that kind of technology used here in this primitive place. The holograms were of very poor quality, not like what Fallen was using or the nice ones back home. They were solid like Seth had been, but had no details or faces.

"These are the where the newest men start out in their training," Zekian explained. "These holograms are poor though a while back we used to have some rather good ones. Siskan. But we had some trouble with them. One of them went crazy and thought it was real or something. It malfunctioned and killed some of the men. That's what happens when you take a pleasure program and convert it over for military use, I say," he said with a laugh. "I was one of the lucky few who got to try the pleasure programs out before they changed them all over. Quite wonderful, I tell you. Better than a real woman any day. She'd do anything you asked --- anything! Shame the Dognan killed off all the real Siskans who made those wonderful holograms. It would've been nice to have more of them. Worst thing the Clan ever did was dump all those programs. Who knows where they all went to?"

The X-men exchanged meaningful glances at each other. They now had an idea where one of them may have gone. Henry was immediately concerned at the idea of a Siskan hologram that went crazy and killed someone. When he looked back on it, Kimble and Seth's emotional instability could be a sign of some sort of damage. It certainly made no sense for Fallen to have chosen them to be like that, who would want a companion that argued back? If Fallen did indeed possess one of those Siskan holograms, she could be in danger. Unfortunately, at the moment they had no way of contacting her.

They were taken to where the alpha troops were working. If all went well, this would be where they were moved to next, to be with their own mutant kind. Here things were less formal since these men were used mainly for stealth and black ops. There were no handlers with whips here and for the first time, the X-men saw some women soldiers. As alphas, they were considered special and privileged since there were only a few of them. The ratio of human to mutant back home was less than half a percent of the normal population. In order to flood this barracks with alphas, the Dognan would have had to make many raids indeed.

The X-men were told that these alphas here worked closely with the Clansmen but since most of them came from off world like the X-men, they didn't share the Clan ideals of subjugating women. The skills of the women were too valuable for them to be beaten or wasted as servants. Here they were well dressed and fed, walking about as freely as any of the men. Henry noted with great interest that there were a couple of white skinned pilots. They, too, were treated as equals and seemed to belong here. None of the alphas or pilots here wore restraining devices of any kind.

Logan grinned when he caught a familiar scent and heard a sharp whistle from across the room. "Well, now this is sight for sore eyes!" he growled as their long lost friend Jacob came running over. Jacob was the one they had gone in search of when this whole weird adventure had begun. Logan held his hand out and Jacob took it, pumping it madly.

"My word! I never expected to see you guys here!" Jacob said, his grin wider than Logan's. Jacob was a medium sized man, blond and blue eyed. He was in the best physical condition Logan had seen him in and was obviously thriving in his new environment, bright and happy. Jacob's ability as a teleporter would make him very valuable here and it seemed that the Clan was smart enough to see that he was comfortable.

"Yeah, well. It wasn't exactly planned."

Jacob cocked his head. "Dognan express?"

"Got it in one."

"Yeah, we were lookin' for you, mon ami," Remy added. "Guess dem cat guys t'ought we were too good to pass up, neh?"

Jacob looked at Remy, saw his crimson eyes with recognition, and addressed him with a small sneer, "LeBeau."

Jacob's greeting had all the warmth of a frigid arctic breeze. Even this far away from home, Remy's bad reputation had preceded him. He didn't know Jacob well, but this wasn't the first time he hadn't been well received by others he didn't really know. Remy nodded at him but said nothing more, silenced by Jacob's obvious dislike of him.

Henry gave Jacob a big blue squeeze, trying to divert Jacob's attention away from his less than beloved teammate. His physician's eye went right to work, grateful for once that the Clanspeople here wore so little. He noted as Logan had that Jacob seemed to be doing much better than he had in the past, but couldn't help himself but ask, "Are you well? We've all been very worried about you since you vanished."

"I'm fine. Never better."

"Yes, I can see that."

"They got you runnin' in hoops?" Logan grumbled. He still wasn't happy with their current situation and wanted a more reliable opinion of what things were like here.

Jacob shrugged casually and said honestly, "Not really. I wanted to join up after they dragged my ass out of the pens. One overnight stay in there was enough to convert me, thanks."

"You were there, too? It was pretty awful," Henry said.

"Yeah. Like I said I was there only one night before the Clan came and bailed me out. Did you guys meet that crazy pilot? Fallen? What a trip, man. That guy Kimble cracked me up."

"Yeah, we met 'em. What about Kimble?" Logan asked, curious.

Jacob laughed as he explained. "We got struck outside the hanger here, waiting for clearance? We had to wait a while and we were all bored so he's up there sittin' at his desk, smoking. He starts telling these hilarious dirty jokes. I mean, the guy never stopped. I've never known anybody who knew so many. I was crackin' up. It was great. I'd love to meet that guy for real some day, he was a riot."

Logan glanced at Henry. It seemed that Jacob didn't know Kimble and Seth weren't real, the illusion had been that perfect.

"Sounds like your experience was better than ours," Henry commented, not bothering to set his friend straight. It didn't matter what Kimble was or wasn't here. Henry went on to briefly detail their horrific adventure with Valentin, he wanted to hear what Jacob would have to say about it.

Jacob shook his head. "That sounds a little crazy, my friend. Valentin is a hard guy, yes, but I've never seen him do anything like that. He's actually pretty decent. He reminds me a lot of my drill instructor when I was in the army. He works just as hard as the rest of us and goes right into battle with us, no matter what. He never has us taking any risks he doesn't take for himself. I hope you join up with us. Then you'd see."

"We weren't exactly given a choice," Logan said. "We're here fer a while."

"Good. You'll see it's not so bad. The alpha squads get better privileges and quarters. I'm surprised they didn't take you here directly."

"Maybe they wanted to see if we would back out."

Jacob smiled. "I hope not. We could really use you guys, especially you," he said to Wolverine. "We need a guy who knows explosives."

"What's goin' on?"

"A big raid. It won't be for a while but we have to get ready. I think they want to blow up the main Dognan base just north of here. We take that out and they'll run with their tails tucked, I guarantee it."

Zekian cleared his throat and the reunion was over. The X-men followed him back to Cerebus' chamber and planning room. The strategists showed them what few plans they had and they and the X-men spent the rest of the day going over what could be done. It seemed the Clan had plenty of resources, they just weren't being used as effectively as they could be and the X-men were quick to point out ways they could improve. That one thing alone was worth having them there. Cerebus was pleased with the day's progress and told them they would be moved to the alpha quarters in a couple of days.

When they returned to their quarters, a package was waiting for them outside the door. Henry picked it up and brought it inside. He opened the bundle and saw three wrapped boxes, one for each of them. Gifts from Fallen, a note said. He opened his and was pleased to find four large books on various subjects. She had included a translator so he could read the different languages. Remy was given several packs of finely decorated Clan playing cards. Logan got a bottle of quality liquor and some cigars. _'Don't ask me where Seth found those...'_ her note said and Logan grunted with amusement.

Henry saw those with a groan. He had a low tolerance for tobacco smoke and things were bad enough already with all the torches around. The last thing he needed was cigar smoke added into the mix. "I hope you don't plan on smoking those in here."

"Nope," Logan grinned, lighting up.

Henry rolled his eyes. Yes, this was going to be a long trip indeed. He smiled when he saw that Fallen had also packed a small amount of fresh food for them. She clearly knew just how bad the dining was here and felt bad for them. They decided to eat sparingly and make it stretch. Who knew how long they were going to be stuck here?


	11. Chapter 11

(Eleven)

The X-men were moved to the alpha quarters as promised once Cerebus determined they wouldn't try to fight or resist. All their restraints were removed and they were allowed to roam about freely. They weren't so foolish as to believe they weren't being watched. Still, they settled in that night and tried to make the best of their situation.

Jacob was right when he said the alphas had better quarters. Their beds were significantly cleaner and they were given some Clan clothing and boots in good condition. Henry suggested that they dress like the Clan to be less conspicuous. Their Earth clothes were different and stood out. It was warm enough in the caves that it wouldn't be a too cold for them to go without shirts. Besides that, they had no real way to clean their regular clothes. They had access to a lovely ice cold bath, but not hot water. It was better than nothing so they would just have to deal with it.

The Clan was infested with head lice, but there was nothing to be done about it. Soon, they would be scratching and complaining as much as everyone else. Henry hoped it wouldn't be long for the last push to be made so they could get out of here. He had the most body hair and was certain to be infested all over. They were given jobs and told they would be paid thirty credits a week, quite a princely sum they were later to learn.

The alpha squads accepted them readily and they became part of the family. There were many different kinds of alphas here -- telekinetics, teleporters, and men of great strength and wisdom. Henry was interested in the few pilots that were included in their ranks. Only two had been made by the Dognan and neither one was as powerful as Fallen. The others were children of the first two and even weaker. They looked completely human, but could produce small amounts of Ristle and were telekinetic. They flew ships, but always in twos and threes, never alone because they just weren't strong enough. Henry was convinced that if it was going to be a pilot that took them home, it would have to be Fallen.

Jacob gave them a brief history on the Clan. The Clan hadn't created Station Nine, they had found it already empty and claimed for themselves, just as Beast had suspected. Whatever perks that existed then -- like scentless outhouses -- they had accepted gratefully.

Until recently, the Dognan hadn't cared that a few crippled white slaves from the pens had gotten out and settled down out here. They had plenty of new slaves any time they liked and could care less what the Clan did. The Dognan used to fly out here and make sport with any slaves they could see, hunting them down like animals, but had otherwise left them alone. The Clan had been living here in their new found home for about two hundred years and over time had grown in number and power as they gathered their strength. They raided the furthest Dognan store houses and stole as much technology and comforts as they could. Still most of the conditions here were poor.

Everything had changed about twenty years ago when Cerebus took over and really organized the men. The addition of alphas to their ranks boosted them even more. With their unique talents, the Clan were finally able to inflict some serious damage on the Dognan. The Dognan were unprepared for the assault and the Clan took most of them down easily. There was one last stronghold left.

Remy woke in his bed on the first day of his new life as a Clansman with a disgruntled sigh. He wanted to be back home in the worst way. He loved adventures as much as the next guy but this was getting to be too much. He missed his home, something he never thought a drifter like himself would ever feel. He snickered softly. Not home. **Rogue**. He missed that fiery Southern Belle more than he could say and he could really use one of her bright shining smiles right about now. He'd even settle for a rip roaring fight, flying tables and chairs and everything.

He closed his eyes and pictured her face, trying to hold it in front of him forever. If he could hold onto that one thing, he could keep going. He felt horrible when he thought about how casually he'd said goodbye to her before they had left for that last mission. Cocky as ever, Remy had assumed nothing untoward would happen, he certainly never imagined he would find himself somewhere where he might never see her again. Just the thought of it made his chest hurt. He would make it back to her no matter how long it took.

He let go of her and sat up, putting his feet on the floor. He hated it here, it was so dark and dreary. Sometimes he felt like he just couldn't breathe in here and would find himself shivering for no reason although it was plenty warm inside the caves. There were no windows and no sunlight. Thinking of the cloudy skies of Cerise made him realize a window probably would be a waste of time anyways.

He knew Henry wasn't happy about the head lice but it was torture for him as well. With all the kids being rotated in and out of the orphanage, he'd been infested several times. Long hours he'd sat in misery while his hair was combed out for eggs. He'd even been made to endure a buzz cut a couple of times. That had been horrid, he loved his hair long and prayed he wouldn't be forced to cut it now.

He grabbed the neatly folded pile of his new clothes and shuffled off to the bathroom. He washed up as best he could, shivering from the ice cold water. As bad as he hated bugs, freezing was worse. Ever since he'd been left alone in the frozen wastes of the Antarctic, he could never stand the cold anymore. He'd spent more than a week freezing his ass off in the remains of their enemy's ruined base, numb, starving, praying for a death that had never come. He was found by some sledders who saw the ruins and wanted to check it out. They brought him back to civilization, but part of his soul would always remain there.

Gambit looked at his reflection in the large cracked mirror over the sink. His hand traced the savage scars on his chest that were a present from the infamous Victor Creed, also known as Sabretooth. They were a dark grey now, but he remembered a time when they had been a deep and ugly red, a more accurate mark of his terrible sin.

Sabretooth, the man who had mauled him so badly, was a vicious mercenary mutant with large claws on either hand, a five fingered Cuisinart that could put Freddy Kruegar to shame. He had been present on what was probably Remy's biggest fuck up of all time and gave him these as a parting gift. He'd been almost eviscerated and hadn't been expected to survive, Sabretooth rarely had folks walk away from his five fingered "massages". These scars were a permanent reminder of Remy's guilt and his inability to ever make up for such a horrific crime. It had happened years ago, long before he had joined the X-men and his keeping a secret of it had been the reason he'd been booted off the team once. He was back on the team again, but his heart was still heavy with it and he supposed it always would be.

"Gambit, you a t'ief an' a killer. Best get used to de idea, 'cause it ain't never gonna change," he whispered softly to himself. He looked into his blood red eyes and saw the sadness there. He didn't like it so he grinned and ran a playful hand through his hair in an attempt to shove all of his bad feelings down. "Self pity don' suit you, homme. You gotta snap outta dis," he scolded himself.

He dressed in the uncomfortable leather pants he'd been given and walked out. He felt uneasy and exposed because he was never without a shirt back home. He had covered up his scars like he covered up his crime and tried to think about them as little as possible. He paused to let a sleepy eyed Logan pass him by. He saw Wolverine check him out, his exposed scars in particular, and was grateful the man walked by him without saying a word.

Gambit saw Henry sitting up from his bed. Henry smiled at him, but his grin faltered a bit when he saw Remy's scars. It had been a long time since he'd actually seen them and it showed on his face. Remy locked eyes with him, his shoulders in an arrogant slouch, daring Beast to say something.

"You've got a class today," Henry said as a greeting.

"Dat's right. Gonna teach dese losers how ta fight like de great an mighty X-men. Dey gonna be heroes, man. De meilleure qualite', non? De best." he boasted. He went to his bed and picked up a long wooden staff in a leather sheath. Jacob had acquired it for him at Logan's request and Remy used a leather thong to tie it to his back as the Clansmen did their swords.

"Well, at least you seem to be approaching this with the proper attitude. I myself would much rather be home in my lab. When I think of all the work I shall have to start over again...." He sighed. "Oh, well. One does need adventures to grow as a person. However, I thought I was large enough already. Well, you'd better be along. Don't want to be late."

Gambit nodded at him and left. He walked down the rough carved hallways of Clan Station Nine and tried to perk up a little. He had instructed students in self defense back at the Mansion so teaching wasn't new to him at all. He was actually quite good at it, moving the students along with a surprising amount of patience. There was just about a million other things he'd rather be doing instead right now. He found the training room with no difficulty and looked over his class. He'd been given a small group of newbie alphas. They were only about six or seven in number and he didn't recognize any of them from home. That didn't bother him at all. He was something of a social creature when he was away from the X-men's Mansion and had no trouble working with groups of strangers.

"Bonjour, mes amis," he said with a grin, hoping to put them at ease. "Dis 'ere is Gambit. He gonna be teachin' you some of de X-men's best tricks, d'accorde?"

One of the larger alpha males looked him over. "Gambit, huh? I know of you. You're that Cajun thief. I've heard all about you."

Remy groaned inside. He should have known he wouldn't be that lucky. When rumors of his crime first broke, it spread through the mutant community like wildfire and Remy became isolated among his own kind. The only company who really tolerated him now were non-alphas who didn't know what had happened and some of the X-men. Even a million miles and a dimension hop or two away from home and his reputation still preceded him.

_Whatever_, Remy thought, his emotional defenses falling neatly into place. He just grinned and swept a hand through his hair. "De femmes still talkin' 'bout me? Well, Gambit's got plenty more of dat good lovin' ta go around," he teased, winking at one of the female students.

"I heard you're nuthin' but a low life, thieving piece of murdering trash."

Gambit's grin never faltered, but eyes grew colder. "Dis t'ievin' piece of trash gonna kick your flabby white butt all 'round dis room, you keep runnin' off your mouth like dat."

"Is that a fact?"

"Oui, dat's a fact."

"Peter, don't..." a small white pilot said to the man, holding his arm back.

He looked at her in disgust and gave her a shove. "Somebody's gotta show this scumbag what we do to killers of our own kind."

He lunged at Remy, but the smaller man side stepped him easily. Remy stuck his foot out and Peter took an ungraceful dive, landing on his face in a tangled heap.

Remy clicked his tongue at him in mock disdain. "Tsk. You kinda slow dere, fat boy. Too bad you ain't as fast as yo' mouth."

Peter got up and dusted himself off. He glared at Remy who stood by easy, a cocky look on his face. He decided that he was probably too slow after all and a change of tactics was in order. He raised two orange glowing fists, and fired off two bursts of plasma energy as if his hands were a gun.

Remy dodged the blasts quickly and easily, having faced much more powerful and talented foes than this. "Not much into a fair fight either, Petey boy? Dat's all right, Gambit's got you covered," he said arrogantly, sliding his new bo staff from its sheath.

They went to it and chased each other about the room. Peter was working very hard, huffing and puffing and it wasn't long before it sank in that he'd chosen the wrong boy to pick a fight with. Gambit outpaced him easily, showing off and joking around. It was even more telling that Remy wasn't even trying to use any of his mutant powers, he was doing this all by his hand to hand training and natural fighting ability. Gambit figured this was as good a way as any to give a demonstration of his skills. He also reasoned that the only way to earn any kind of respect was to beat this bully down. He wasn't cruel by nature and didn't let the fight drag out too long. He gave Pete a sharp crack to the back of the head with the staff and tripped him again.

Pete went down hard and lay on his back, panting. Remy approached him with fluid grace, not even winded, and put the butt of the staff against his chest. "Bang! You dead, sucker," he teased with an arrogant grin.

"What's going on here!"

Remy looked up as Valentin came in the room in a huff, Wolverine in tow behind him. Valentin had heard all the racket from Peter's plasma bursts and came in looking for the source of the trouble. He wasn't too surprised to see Remy in the middle of it, Valentin had pegged Gambit as a trouble maker right from the beginning.

"Jus' givin' a little demonstration, boss," Gambit replied smoothly, backing off.

Pete sat up and looked at Wolverine. Logan was a senior X-man and bit more recognizable so Peter pointed at him. "You! You're an X-man! Don't you know who this guy is?!"

"Of course I know," Logan replied evenly.

"You guys came in together! How can you stand there and not take him out! How could you take him in and have him on your team!"

" 'Cause he's saved my life more'n once. He's proved himself ta me and the team," Wolverine replied with complete honesty. "He's a better man than most --- in spite of what he may have done in the past. I trust him with my life and so should you."

"My brother was a Morlock!" Peter shouted loudly, spitting with his rage. "He was down there in the tunnels when that scumbag you call your friend led those vicious killers down there! My brother is dead because of him! I won't work with him! I refuse!"

"You owe the Clan a ten year term of service and you will do as you're told!" Valentin ordered, his size and aggressive posture begging no refusals. He didn't know what was going on here, but this wasn't the first time alphas from different factions collided unpleasantly. The best thing was to put it down quickly and get back to business. "We will fight this war and we will fight it together. After that, the two of you can settle up in any manner you like."

Remy took a step back when he heard Peter mention his brother. His face had paled and his shoulders slumped in a submissive posture Logan had come to know all too well. Remy often walked the Mansion this way when he was among some of his more unforgiving teammates. His teasing manner was gone and he kept his eyes down. "Je suis de'sole, homme. I'm sorry about yo' brother. I know it probably won' mean anyt'ing to you now, but I never meant what 'appened. It was a mistake."

"How could you not know? You're nothing but a lying scumbag! How dare you insult me by trying to apologize?!" Peter howled, unable to contain his rage. "You're dead, LeBeau, you hear me! You're so fucking dead!"

Remy just shook his head and walked out at a fast trot, taking his bo staff with him.

Valentin turned to Logan who had watched Remy leave with a strange look of concern on his face. "Is your friend going to give us any more trouble?"

"No."

"See to it that he doesn't. I'll reschedule his training class around those who would rather fight than train. He will still be expected to work here, understand?"

"Yeah, I understand," Wolverine grunted, a little surprised by Valentin's willingness to work around this. He figured Valentin would beat Remy to a pulp and force him to obey. For the first time, Logan was thinking maybe there was more to Valentin than he'd first thought. It wouldn't be the last.


	12. Chapter 12

(Twelve)

Remy took off through the gloomy tunnels of Clan Station Nine. It occurred to him that some of his discomfort was coming from the fact that these hallways looked an awful lot like the tunnels used by the Morlocks. He ran faster and faster as he was overcome by painful horrible memories.

The Morlocks were a group of mutants that had gone to live in the disused subway tunnels under Manhattan. They took their name from H G Wells' Rulers of the Netherworld. These mutants were the last dregs of mutant kind, deformed and ugly and sometimes too dangerous to live out on the streets without inadvertently hurting people. They were so horrible looking they could never live out in the open without being hunted down and killed by the less forgiving bands of human mutant hunters. The Morlocks hid down in the tunnels, banding together for safety. They lived off of whatever they could scrounge and tried to get by as best they could.

An evil mutant scientist named Sinister had learned of their existence and as a geneticist, found them to be a blight on the face of mutant kind. They simply had to go. To this purpose, he enlisted the aid of a popular thief for hire, one Remy LeBeau.

Remy's life had never been easy. He was left at the doorstep of Saint Anne's orphanage only a couple of days after he was born. He had stayed at that orphanage until he was eight, living in poverty half in half out of the streets. There were gangs of thugs all about and they were hardly a good influence. He learned to steal and to lie with the best of them At the tender age of eight, he had the brass to try and pick the pocket of Jean Luc LeBeau, head of a local crime family called the Thieves Guild. Jean Luc was amused by the boy with the fiery red eyes and a few weeks later adopted him.

For eight wonderful years, Remy knew bliss. He was well cared for, surrounded in the rich southern heritage of a large and loving family. He suddenly had more cousins than he could count and they all for the most part accepted him. Jean Luc trained him in the fine art of thievery, upgrading what had already been a blossoming career, and found in Remy a natural talent. He showered Remy with love and the boy knew it and felt it. Sadly, it all ended two days after his sixteenth birthday.

The Thieves Guild wasn't always peaceful and a, internal feud broke out. Poor Remy was caught in the middle of it and through no fault of his own, was exiled. He was told his leaving was the only way to ensure peace. He loved Jean Luc dearly and did as he was told.

Once back on the streets, he was alone and all of his old pains came back to haunt him. He wasn't good enough. He was shunned as a mutant and it chilled him down to his very soul. He was now living full time with pimps and whores, drug dealers and addicts and it drained the life and soul right out of him. To survive, he moved from one job to the next, not caring who he was robbing so long as there was a challenge and some kind of monetary payoff in the end. It was around this time that he and Sinister crossed paths for the first time.

Their relationship started out small. He would acquire things for a price and Sinister always paid handsomely in cash. Remy was always suspicious of the strange doctor, but the work was easy and the pay good, so what the hell? They'd been on good terms for while before that final terrible day and so Remy didn't turn down the guy's money when the man came to him with a list.

"Gather these men for me."

Remy took one look at the list and knew something ugly was going to go down for somebody. He recognized Sabretooth's name immediately, having run into that monster more than once already.

"Sure t'ing, boss," Remy had replied, taking the man's money and doing as he was asked.

When Remy showed up with the men, he was supposed to be done. He was just going to walk away and think on this no more. Sinister had other ideas. He asked Remy to take them down to the tunnels and get them past the Morlock defenses. Remy refused. Sinister countered with an offer Remy couldn't turn down. He had something Remy wanted and needed more than anything. Something that was more valuable than money or any riches he could have offered. Something only he could provide.

Remy swallowed his pride, shut down his emotions, and tried not to think of what he was doing when he found himself agreeing to do as Sinister had least he'd been smart enough to ask for payment first. Sinister was more than happy to pay what Remy had asked for -- after all, what Remy wanted would cost Sinister nothing.

Later, as Gambit led the men down in the tunnels, these seasoned killers and mercenaries, his heart filled with dread. The men were joking and laughing, calling themselves the Marauders just for the kick of it. Remy tuned them out and tried to convince himself that this was just another job, just another working day. No way was this something legal, but that had never stopped him before. He was just being paranoid. How bad could it be?

Remy was shocked to discover just how bad, bad could be. It never came close to his feeblest imaginings. He used all of his thieving skills to get past the Morlock defenses and opened the main door. The men he'd so thoughtlessly brought down here slid past him and the slaughter of the Morlocks began. Gambit hadn't known the true purpose of these guys, Sinister had mumbled something about collecting blood samples. The tough men comprising the Marauders were necessary because the Morlocks, though ugly, would put up a vigorous fight.

Gambit stood there in numb horror, bathed in blood both real and imagined, seeing that he'd been totally duped. There were no blood samples being collected today, at least, not in the traditional way. The Morlocks were not strong, most of them were weak betas, cosmetic mutants only, and they fell like wheat to the scythe.

Remy stood there, agape, unable to accept what he'd just allowed to happen. The evil killer Sabertooth was among the men he'd brought and he next turned on the poor stricken thief, slashing his chest and belly open and leaving him to die. Remy managed to gather himself and flee, grabbing a small child as he went. He made it to a hospital, badly wounded and barely alive, wishing he'd died.

When he woke up days later, the child he'd rescued was gone and he was lying in a hospital bed. He had been nearly eviscerated and it had taken over fifty stitches to close his horrible wounds. The only one who'd known he done anything wrong was himself so he buried it deep inside of him. He swallowed it down with most of his emotions in self defense and became even more heartless and cold than he had been before. When he recovered and went back to work, he found himself taking even more risky jobs, losing himself in reckless abandon, not caring if he lived to see another day.

He'd joined the X-men for kicks, loving the adventure of it. Falling in love with Rogue changed all that. For the first time, he began to feel like he might actually be worth something. It also made him feel good inside when he saw all the good things he was accomplishing as an X-man. He was helping people and making a difference in the world that could be seen and felt. It also opened up his heart so those feelings he had buried so deeply and he was tortured by the horrible thing he'd done. He was developing a conscience.

He vowed to make up for what he'd done by working as hard as he could with the X-men. His only fear was that Rogue and the X-men would find out what he'd done. He didn't know what they would do to him and he wasn't eager to find out. He knew one thing for sure, Rogue would never forgive him and would hate him forever. She'd seen what went down in the tunnels firsthand when the team at that time had gone down and drove the Marauders off. The horror of the slaughter had never left her.

When Gambit had joined the X-men, he said nothing of his past, hoping only to hide it. It was a useless attempt in a house full of such powerful and intuitive mutants. The fact that he was in love with a girl who had the unique talent of absorbing a person's memories with a single touch undid him. One kiss. One kiss and it was all over. She knew he was hiding something, but didn't know what. Only that it was very bad, so horrible that Remy had smashed it so far down in his own mind that she hadn't been able to see it clearly herself. She hounded him for weeks, trying to get him to confess, but he resisted her.

He employed evasive tactics to protect himself from Rogue's probing, but those didn't last. When it finally all came out during that disastrous mission in the Antarctic, Rogue had left him there to die, condemning him on her own just as he'd feared she would. How he'd prayed for death then, had even attempted to accomplish that himself, but it seemed like fate had other plans for him. He was rescued days later and he scraped up a living back on the streets again, not really alive.

He didn't feel a spark of anything resembling true living until he'd caught a quick glimpse of Rogue while in New York City. It sent a thrill right through him and he knew then his heart had been stolen long ago, before he'd even left. He sucked down his pride and came crawling back to the Professor, spouting apologies and groveling for the first time in his life. He was stunned when it actually worked. He did manage to earn his way back on the team, but he paid for it, oh yes. He was always paying for it with his constantly having to apologize and getting smashed over his head time after time with his guilt. He would never be free of it.

Back in the smoky caves of Clan Station Nine, Remy stopped running when he found a small unused boarding room. He hid himself in the far corner, scrunching up as small as he could. He opened a bottle of Clan whiskey he'd "liberated" on his way here and drank down two large gulps of it, wishing only to get as drunk as possible and pass out. He took the whiskey down and buried his face in his arms, unable to stop the tears of humiliation and shame that came unbidden, now that he was alone and could let his guard down. He cried and cried until he grew tired and fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

(Thirteen)

Wolverine crouched on the empty bed, looking down at Gambit dozing drunkenly in the corner. It hadn't taken him long to track down his wayward teammate, but he wasn't ready to wake him just yet. He could tell Remy had been crying and could still smell the odor of his distress. Gambit was hurting.

_Serves you right_, Logan complained silently to his sleeping friend, but he couldn't stay angry at Remy for long. Lord knows he'd done enough killing in his own time to make him not the proper candidate to pass judgement. He knew Remy's remorse was real and that Gambit had enough trouble dealing with his own guilt and shame without any more harsh words from him. He had watched Remy skulking around the Mansion for over a year now, always putting up a brave front to hide how much he loathed himself.

Logan understood that he and Remy were the same. They worked as X-men to make up for the sins of the past. Remy had his Morlock Massacre, Logan had a lifetime of military work and berserker rages. Logan had never pulled a number as deliberately foul as Remy's misadventure with the Morlocks, but he had slaughtered a fair number of soldiers on his way out of the military complex where they had crammed all that metal into him without so much as a by your leave. Logan's personal nightmares made Remy's fever dream look like a trip to Disneyland.

Logan knew his main role on the X-men's team was as a protector. He was the big junk yard dog that prowled the yard, keeping watch. He'd done more than his share of killing on missions and protecting the house from mutant invaders with a score to settle. He accepted it as his job and did it whenever it was necessary to spare the others. He took on the burden of guilt because he was suited for it. He swallowed it down with the rest of his emotions, leaving him hard on the outside.

He chuckled softly as he looked down at Remy again. Remy tried really hard to put up the same kind of front with his arrogance and disregard for the rules. Wolverine knew better. Remy was young, not even twenty-five. His crime had been committed as a teenager. His swagger couldn't hide just how sensitive and emotional he really was. Logan thought it was hilarious actually that Remy thought he could pull off the emotional distancing that he himself had perfected to an art form. Gambit had been devastated when Rogue left him behind in Antarctica, it had been stamped on his face like a neon sign the first time Logan had seen him after his return. Gambit and Rogue were back together now, but not as closely as before. Logan wasn't sure why Remy had even bothered, the two of them fought so bitterly sometimes. Maybe Remy figured that if he could get the one who'd felt the most betrayed by his lack of trust to forgive him, he would have that absolution he so desperately needed.

"Enough useless wool gatherin', old man," Logan grumbled softly to himself. "Time ta get this lost son back with the program."

Remy woke when he felt a heavy hand shaking him gently. He looked up with swollen, bleary eyes into Wolverine's face and snorted softly with impatience. He should have known Logan would track him down eventually.

"You all right?" Logan growled, his face betraying his concern.

"Sure t'ing, patron," Remy replied in a dry scratchy voice. He rubbed his eyes and stretched a little. He found the whiskey bottle he had set aside and drank from it.

Logan didn't stop him. "Valley says he's gonna move you around, keep you out of trouble."

"Whatever."

"We gotta get through this, Gumbo. We do this, we go home. Simple as that. We have to work together. I know you can train people, I know you can fight. What I don't know is if you can keep it together long enough for us to get this job done."

"Not even de Arctic kept dis boy down. Dis place a piece of cake," Remy boasted arrogantly, his swagger a false bravado covering his pain.

Logan's senses were much too powerful to be fooled by any of Remy's false pretenses. "You ain't here all alone. We're gonna look after you."

Remy sniffed. "Gambit can take of his'self now. Dis is 'is trouble, 'is crime, comprenez? He's de one who 'as to pay for it. What 'appens, 'appens."

"We're X-men, we stick togther."

"Not for dis. Dis 'appen before I ever come to be wit you."

"I know. I was there in the tunnels trying to stop it."

Gambit shuddered with the memory of all the blood and carnage and closed his eyes. He was much too drunk to be having this kind of conversation. He buried his face in his arms again and wouldn't look up. He was still teetering on an emotional edge and didn't want to Logan to see him cry.

Wolverine put a hand on his shoulder. "We're gonna look after you whether you want us to or not. Just do us a favor and don't make us work too hard, all right?"

Gambit raised his head and nodded, wiping at his eyes. He was a little surprised by Wolverine's gesture of comfort, Logan never touched people, the guy was too closed off. He figured Logan was just trying to get him leveled out so they could get out of this. It was impossible to believe he could ever be forgiven for what he'd done.

"You can start by comin' back with me," Logan growled, retreating. "I wanna get some sleep an' I ain't leavin' ya out here alone."

Gambit nodded again and rose unsteadily. He was still drunk and his legs were cramped from being folded under him for so long. He stretched again and followed Logan back to their room, keeping quiet. When they got back, he crawled into his bed and covered up, not wanting to look at anyone. Henry said nothing and left him alone. The next day, they didn't speak of what happened and Remy went back to work.

The first week was brutal for Remy but he made it through. He was constantly harassed by Peter and some of the others. He never left their humble cave quarters without his new bo staff in hand and was in several fights and minor scuffles. He would come home from his new job bruised and cut, but never took as bad as he gave out. Gambit was fast, Gambit was skilled. He'd been trained almost from the first day Jean Luc had adopted him in the art of hand to hand fighting, it was all part of the thievery daily fare. Flexibility and wiry strength were a must when confronted with hard to reach places and tricky entrances. His problem solving skills were just as sharp when it came to a pinch or a fight, especially when it came down to his own personal survival. Remy's inborn agility and flexibility only made him that much faster and more accurate than his opponents. He was simply too hard to catch up with and when they managed to get in close, he used every ounce of skill to punish them without mercy. It was a decidedly one sided battle.

The losers soon got tired of Remy's abuse and the fights trailed off after a while and things settled down. True to his word, Gambit had taken care of his own troubles without the others having to step in and help him.

Valentin took a moment to take Wolverine aside and compliment him on his teammate's strength of spirit. Remy's ability to keep the alphas at bay so skillfully had made an impression with the hardened warrior, something not easy to do. Valentin had been harboring some doubts about Remy's usefulness for the upcoming raid, but those concerns had now been laid aside. In a society where the strongest survived, Gambit had managed to hold his own.

Remy got into a routine of teaching classes and kept mostly to himself. As things quieted, his confidence returned and he was more like his old self, even if his eyes were a bit more haunted than they were before. Logan was satisfied with Remy's effort to get along and left him alone.


	14. Chapter 14

(Fourteen)

After a week of working and helping to organize the upcoming big raid, Jacob decided his old friend needed a break. He offered to take Logan into one of the small towns in the station for a little rest and relaxation. Jacob asked them all to go, but Henry begged off. He wanted to read one of the books Fallen had given him. Remy wanted to go and Jacob just nodded at him without speaking. He walked them down to one of the few taverns in Station Nine. Even from the outside, they could hear men shouting and fighting. "It's kinda rough," Jacob warned.

Logan grinned. "My kinda place."

They went inside and made their way through the crowd to some tables in the back. They sat down and a tired looking female came and waited on them. She took their order and left, hunched over and passive. "Do all the women suck like this?" Logan complained.

"Mostly." Jacob grinned and gave a conspiratory wink. "If it's a real good time you're looking for, I can hook you up with my buddy, Jack. But it will cost you."

Logan was a loner by nature and not one to form lasting relationships. His comforts came in the form of casual sex or the occasional prostitute. He was not above paying for a little fun so long as the women weren't abused or mishandled. He had no tolerance for that kind of abuse and had been known to make pimps disappear if he caught them misusing the girls. It wasn't that he hunted them down, but he hung out in rough bars and it was all around him. If he was in the right place at the right time, his sense of honor and protectiveness forced him to act.

"How much?" At the moment, Logan had just been paid and he had thirty credits burning a hole in his pocket. The Clan made coins from metal they had scrounged and had a crude picture of the Honor Sword on it. Counterfeiters were punished by death so the credits kept their value. The alphas were paid once a week.

"At least ten for the usual. But I tell ya, if you want to go for broke, he's got a Siskan you can have for fifteen."

Logan's interest perked up at that. "A Siskan?"

"Yeah. He got one of the pleasure programs illegally. It's better than a real woman, I kid you not. Worth every penny. She'll give you the full treatment and then some. This Siskan is for alphas only. It's our best kept secret so don't spread it around."

"Sounds good ta me."

"Wait here." Jacob got up and left to make the arrangements.

"What you doin', patron?" Remy asked, shaking his head with mock disapproval.

Logan grinned. "Research."

" 'Research?' "

"Yeah. I wanna see what all the fuss is about with these Siskans. I wanna know if that's what Fallen's got."

"I t'ink we both know dat's what she's got, mon ami."

"Well, I wanna know for sure."

"De Lucky Dragon's far far away from 'ere. Ain't got nuthin' ta do wit us."

Logan ignored him as Jacob returned. "You coming?" he asked Remy.

"Non. Gambit wait 'ere for you." He had seen a card game starting up in the back and was thrilled at the idea of some real entertainment. He got up and made his way over.

Jacob led Logan from the tavern to a small private cave not too far away. He was met at the door by his friend, Jack. There was a small discussion and Jacob asked for Logan's money. He paid the man and they went inside. The home was sparsely furnished with mats and furs, a small wooden table that had been constructed of wooden crates was the only piece of real furniture. Logan was taken to a separate room while Jacob waited.

The leather skin divider was pulled back and Logan went into the room. This room was almost lavish in its decorations. Of course, this was where the money was made. A pallet bed covered in soft furs was on the floor to one side and the walls had dark red tapestries depicting sexual acts in a beautiful and tasteful manner. A large inviting stone bath filled with steaming scented water was in the middle of the room, filling the air with the scent of flower petals. Logan shivered in anticipation, that one thing alone was worth the fifteen credits.

Standing next to the bath was one of the most beautiful women Logan had ever seen. She had long dark hair in an impressive drape down one shoulder and was dressed in a shimmering red silken kimono. Logan grinned, Jacob knew of the X-man's preference for Oriental women and must have passed it on. Although this lovely lady was not Oriental herself, she had done her best to please. It was good enough for him.

She seemed to sense this somehow and smiled at him demurely. "I am Lanlin. I will be serving you today." She gestured to the bath. "Please."

He approached and paused as she came forward to undress him. He smiled and sniffed at her when she came close, using his feral abilities to give her a more thorough inspection. Like Seth, she had no scent, he could smell her perfume, nothing more. On top of that, he was aware that she was extraordinarily quiet – she had no heartbeat. Only someone with his level of hearing would notice that. It didn't mean she wasn't warm, he could sense and feel her heat as she moved in the room. It was kind of creepy considering she wasn't truly alive.

Logan had nothing to fear from this unique and beautiful creature. Lanlin was gentle and careful as she removed his clothing and laid it aside. She eased him into the bath, making sure he was comfortable. He gestured for her to join him and she opened her kimono, revealing herself to him with a small smile. She was perfect in every way a woman could be for him – she was lean, but not scrawny and had nice firm breasts. The kimono shimmered as it left her body and disappeared, making Logan grunt in surprise. It had never been real.

She climbed into the bath, sliding in behind him and placing her silky legs around his waist. He groaned with pleasure as she washed him and massaged his back and shoulders with nimble and skilled fingers, knowing just where and how hard to squeeze. It had been a long time since he'd been spoiled like this. She chatted about nothing in a soothing gentle voice as she worked her hands over him. Now Logan could see why Fallen wanted Seth so badly. Lanlin was thoughtful, skilled and compliant.

She soaped up his hair and scrubbed his head, making all the itchies from the headlice disappear. He closed his eyes and moaned in happiness, unable to keep quiet about just how much he was enjoying this. He heard her laugh softly and he teased, "I suppose ya get this all the time, huh, darlin'?"

"Not really, no. Most of the men, they skip the bath and get right to the love."

"The love, huh?"

She took him from the bath to the bed and that's where the real magic was. _She's not real_, he kept telling himself, but it was hard to believe. Her body was warm and felt completely real to him, inside and out, even when he had gotten down to actually making love to her. He could feel the tiny hairs of her skin and the muscles and bones of her body as she moved around him. Her nipples reacted to his touch no differently than any other woman he'd been with and she shivered and responded to his hands moving over her as though to be touched by him was to be blessed by a god. She was certainly more than eager to serve him and seemed overjoyed to have his company, making him feel like royalty.

A slight sheen of sweat formed on her back as she worked him and her breath was real and fine in his ears. She shivered and shook in a perfect imitation of woman in climax and he began to wonder if he'd been lied to. Was she a real person? An alpha perhaps that could mask her scent somehow and silence her heartbeat? He'd seen weirder things in his travels. She kissed him passionately as though she'd known him all her life and showed no fear of him at all. That was a rare thing for him and pleased him most of all. She made him miss home, though. There was nothing as soft and kind as she was here in this horrible Clan Station.

When she was through with him, she massaged him again and whispered in his ear that strange musical language he'd heard before on the Lucky Dragon. He hadn't felt this good, this wonderful and tingly all over in a long time. He wanted to explore her, silently demanding that she reveal to him the truth, that she wasn't real. He pulled her head back and looked deeply in her eyes. He almost wished he hadn't. This close, with all of his hyper senses, he could now see she wasn't real, not truly alive. There was a sort of deadness to her eyes that disappointed him. The only thing it did for him was take away any guilt he may have had for using her like this. If she wasn't alive, she wasn't truly a whore being used against her will.

Later, Remy grinned as he watched Logan come back into the bar. Logan couldn't hide his good spirits and contentment. His skin was glowing from a good wash and he smelled of soap and girlie things. He sat down across from Remy and just smiled away, saying nothing.

Remy snorted. "Dat good, huh?"

"You have no idea." He eyed the heavy bag of credits Remy had out on the table. Remy had done very well at cards while he was waiting for Logan to return. "You should put that bag a credits ta good use, boy. Those ain't gonna be worth nuthin' back home."

"Merci, but non. Gambit 'ad enough fun for one day. 'E's ready for bed."

Logan got up with him and they made their way back to alpha quarters. Henry greeted them from his bed as they entered. He noted Logan's fine condition. "I see the two of you had fun."

"You should come wit us next time," Remy offered.

Henry raised his book. "I've got all I need right here."

Logan cocked his head with a sly grin. "I had a bath."

"Congratulations."

Remy eased himself down onto his bed and stretched. "Dat ain't all he got. Jacob knows somebody who 'as a Siskan."

Henry was immediately interested. "Really? How was it?"

Logan's grin got wider.

"Hmm? Interesting."

"Maybe you should find out for yourself, Blue. The bath alone was worth the fifteen credits."

Henry was shocked. "Fifteen credits? Good Lord! That's highway robbery! Most of the regular men only get paid five credits a week." Still, he wanted to know, "Well, how did it to compare to Seth and Kimble?"

Logan was thoughtful a moment before answering, "This was much better. Hard ta tell it wasn't actually real."

"But it was the same? Fallen does have a Siskan pleasure program?"

Logan nodded. "I think so, yeah."

"And it was damaged," Henry said to himself. "If she does indeed possess the one that killed those men, she could be in danger."

"She must know what she's got," Gambit replied impatiently. "Dat girl ain't one bit stupid."

"I'm not so sure."

"Anyways, what does dis 'ave to do wit us? We ain't gonna see dem again."

Henry just smiled. "Au contraire, my Cajun friend. The good word is that we've been assigned to the Lucky Dragon as part of Valentin's squad on the big raid. I'm convinced now more than ever that Fallen is our best bet for getting out of here."

Remy was more than interested. "You ever talk to 'er about it?"

"No, but I would very much like to."

"Why would she take us 'ome? She got no obligation to us fo' anyt'ing."

"To get away from Valentin."

"What if she don' wanna leave?" Logan interrupted. He was used to things not going as planned. This mission had been a prime example of that.

Henry had the answer for that. He was grinning but quite serious as he replied, "There's more than one way to get such a talented person's attention. I'll offer her a job. I'm sure someone of her various talents would prove useful to us."


	15. Chapter 15

(Fifteen)

Henry sat as his work station working on some of the detonators for the upcoming raid. It bothered him that his skills were being put to use constructing devices whose only purpose was to kill people, but he agreed with Cerebus that the Dognan had to be stopped. They were getting out of hand, going to Earth and teleporting people out to be used as slaves. Any means to put that to an end was worth it.

Henry paused as his stomach growled loudly. "My pointed ears for a Twinkie," he sighed. The food here was simply unbearable and Fallen's care package had been used up long ago. He'd finally broken down and was living off of bread and water as Gambit was. Neither one could bring themselves to touch anything more and they were both looking a little ragged and thin.

Wolverine was in his element and getting along nicely, but Henry was concerned about Remy. He was moody and quiet, keeping mostly to himself. He didn't go back out with Jacob as Wolverine had done. Wolverine had grown quite enamored with the Siskan hologram and had gone back a couple more times already.

Henry was fond of Rogue and didn't wish her heart any harm, but Henry would have been at least a little relieved if Remy had visited Lanlin as well. Anything to raise his spirits. Henry would see Gambit sitting alone at the cafeteria table way in the back, smoking and staring off into space as he absently rubbed a thumb along the scars on his chest. He'd made no friends here, Peter had seen to that, but Remy was a loner by nature when he was at the house. He didn't socialize with the X-men except for Rogue. Remy was secretive and absent most of the time so Henry didn't know him as well as he did other X-men. The X-men team was quite large, having up to twenty and thirty members moving in and out on various assignments all over the world and it was impossible for Beast to know them all well.

Henry had been on the mission to Antarctica where Remy had been left behind. He had watched in abject horror as the details of Remy's horrific crime had been dealt out and how it shattered the team. Their opponent apparently knew Remy better than they did and was more than happy to humiliate the poor thief in front of everybody. It had the desired effect. Oh, how well they had been played, Henry thought as he looked back on it. The team was shocked and horrified by the traitor in their midst and they completely fell apart, bickering and arguing so much over the distraction provided, that the bad guy got away and poor Remy was abandoned to freeze to death. They went back for him eventually, but no trace of him was ever found. It came as a total surprise when a year later he showed up in New York City, quite thin, a little haunted, but none the worse for wear. He stayed nearby, making his presence known, and was eventually gradually reinstated as an X-man. Even so, it was never the same after that, not even when Rogue took him back. Henry knew that Remy took these big risky jobs as an attempt at absolution for his past crimes.

"So why are you here, Henry old boy? Hmm?" Henry asked himself, rubbing his eyes. "Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

He'd been very surprised when the Professor had asked him to go along with Wolverine and Gambit, two of the less predictable and most unstable members of the team. Henry worked mainly in the lab and didn't get asked to go out on missions as often. That was just fine with him. He preferred to help out the team by more scientific and passive means.

"I'm a bit shorthanded," the Professor had replied wearily. "These disappearances must be stopped. They worry me in that we still have no idea who's behind them. So many young lives simply gone. We've lost a few good mutants, too. We must find out what's going on and stop it."

How could Henry refuse such an impassioned plea for help? He certainly never expected to end up here.

His thoughts were interrupted as Zekian approached him and handed him a note without speaking. Henry read it and was surprised to see it had come from Fallen. It was an invitation for him to come to the Lucky Dragon. She had found something that would be of interest to him. She also promised him a good meal and a hot shower. Henry didn't need to be asked twice. Without hesitation, he packed up his work for the moment and made his way down to the hanger bay.

Maylee was waiting for him on the ramp and greeted him warmly. She had just returned from class herself and had some books and papers in her arms. She brought Henry inside and made him comfortable. The first order of business was the hot shower as promised, for which Henry was very grateful. He was even more pleased when he was provided with special soaps that would kill the lice that now infested him head to foot. The relief was immediate and heavenly. Maylee brought him next to the galley and fed him, laughing gaily when he gorged himself. He had no idea when his next good meal would come and wasn't about to refuse anything offered, especially since it was all so fresh and well prepared. Maylee gave him a large cup of tea when he was finished and sent him down to the shop to see Fallen.

Henry made his way down the trap door steps and to the shop. He was a startled to see a white skinned, dark haired stranger standing at ease at the work bench to the back. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at a male pilot and that it was actually Kimble. Kimble was out in the hologram and writing something down on long sheets of blue prints that were coming out of a large printer that Henry hadn't seen before. Henry was a little shocked. Paper was very scarce here and he had no idea where Fallen had acquired it.

Kimble was slouching comfortably as he worked, rubbing his wings together thoughtlessly while he leaned over the papers. Soft rock and roll music was playing and Kimble had one pawed foot tapping in perfect rhythm to the music. He was smoking absently, squinting slightly from the smoke. The cigarette was real, Henry could smell the smoke and wondered why if Kimble wasn't truly real, he should even have the desire to smoke at all. Kimble held the hand rolled cigarette between two slender white fingers and flicked the ash without even thinking. He didn't seem to have any of Seth's fine motor skill problems and was at ease being out in the hologram.

The hologram program Fallen was using allowed for the differences between Seth and Kimble. Kimble stood tall and confident, flexing his large arm muscles as he scribbled quickly on the papers. He had a much heavier build than his brother and the dark coloring of his hair and sideburns contrasted sharply with the sparkling whiteness of his skin. The side burns made him look much older than Seth had appeared, more mature. He wasn't wearing a shirt and Henry could see the Honor Sword mark blazing brightly down his chest. He had a pilot's body and wings, and wore a pair of tight fitting black denim jeans. His furry toes were bare and Henry could see the tips of his toe claws. Kimble had untied his pony tail and his hair fell long and thick about his head and shoulders, reaching down to his waist.

A lock of hair fell down over his eyes and Kimble tucked it behind his ear in a slow and graceful movement, smiling slightly as if he'd enjoyed the stroke of his own fingers against his skin. He caught Henry's approach out of the corner of his eye and his smile slowly grew wider. He stood up straight and turned unhurriedly to face his guest, drawing out the moment before offering his hand. "Good morrow, Dr. McCoy," he purred, his voice soft and low.

"Good morrow," Henry replied, taking Kimble's outstretched hand and shaking it. Kimble's skin was warm and his fingers slightly damp from holding the pen he'd been using. The illusion was very good, Henry couldn't tell Kimble was anything less than real.

Kimble took his hand back slowly, drawing his fingertips across Henry's palm as if he was examining the doctor by touch as much as he'd been looked over by Henry himself, a mutual admiration. He leaned back against the workbench, resting his hands on either side of his body and cocked his head slightly with a sly grin. He flexed his abdominal muscles as he took a deep breath and let his eyes roam freely over his visitor, rudely staring at him without speaking as he looked him over. His eyes glittered with bright intelligence and he sniffed at Henry slightly, something Henry had seen Logan do when he was trying to figure someone out. The lock of hair came loose again and once more Kimble stroked it back, shivering slightly as if aroused from his own touch and the presence of his guest so very close.

_If I didn't know any better --- __**and I don't**__ --- I'd say this creature is flirting with me_, Henry thought to himself. _Fallen isn't here so Kimble is acting on his own. Fascinating_. "Well, this is a surprise," Henry said, breaking the momentary silence.

"A pleasant one, I'm hopin'," Kimble said in his lazy drawl. He gave Henry another one of his teasing, playful smiles. "You enjoyin' yer stay at Nine?"

Henry grunted a laugh. "Not really. The conditions are quite primitive."

"Maylee took care of ya some, yer lookin' pretty fine from here," Kimble commented flirtatiously, looking Henry over again and licking his lips like he was something good to eat. It was true, Henry's fur was clean and brushed, the best he'd looked and felt for some time.

Henry squirmed a little, pinned down by Kimble's almost predatory stare. He'd never been looked at quite that way by a man before.

"Give it up, Kimble. He wouldn't be interested," Fallen said impatiently, coming out of the downstairs lavatory and into the shop.

"Good morrow, Fallen," Henry said, relieved by her timely appearance.

She walked up to him and shook his hand. "Good morrow. Don't mind Kimble. He does that to shock people. He thinks it's amusing. He doesn't get out much and isn't properly socialized."

Fallen had plenty of time to recover from her savage beating and in spite of a few fading bruises on her back, looked in good shape. Her smile was bright and warm and cheered Henry's heart. He had been worried about her.

"Your Kimble here is quite impressive. Very realistic for an artificial personality."

Henry saw a sudden look of dark anger cross Kimble's face and was startled to hear the man actually growl at him. It was low and deep, reminding him of Logan's own gravelly built in warning system. He realized he'd just made a mistake. Kimble was clearly offended at the suggestion that he was anything less than real.

Fallen gave Kimble a kick and he quieted, putting his head down submissively. He rubbed his wings together with aggressive impatience and pouted a little.

Henry bowed slightly at him. "Pardon me, I meant no offense. I am unused to the idea of a sentient hologram. The ones we have back home are not like you in this way."

" 'S all right," Kimble said, clearly lying. He was still offended. " 'S a common mistake."

Fallen barked at him in another language and Kimble turned away and went back to the papers.

"You did nothing wrong," she said to Henry, ignoring Kimble as he sulked. "He's a child and hopelessly immature, nothing more. Forget it. I asked you here because Seth found some files that may be the blueprints for the Dognan complex Valentin is planning to attack."

Henry was immediately interested. "How did you come by these?"

"We found a crashed Dognan ship yesterday. I took the computer out and Seth was able to hack into it. He found these files. Maybe if you guys look them over, you can find a good way to get inside."

"I already done it," Kimble boasted, looking up at her with a grin.

"Really?" Henry asked, coming closer to look at the papers. He hoped that if he gave Kimble a good listen, Kimble would see he was sorry he had inadvertently insulted him. Henry was surprised by his own feelings towards Kimble, he simply couldn't help himself from regarding Kimble as anything but a real person. He behaved so lifelike, even if he was a bit childish and sensitive.

When Henry looked down at the papers, he was surprised by what he saw. The blueprints did look authentic and were very detailed. Kimble had been writing notes in the margins. His writing was very beautiful, he used a font Henry was unfamiliar with but it could be read easily even though it was decorative and carefully made. Kimble had made notations pointing out most of the exits and entrances, but what was most noteworthy was a small commentary he had made on the nuclear core reactor in the center of the base. Kimble had speculated that causing the reactor to overload and explode would destroy a good portion of the base with minimal manpower --- if they could get to it. Henry chuckled softly. How convenient that they had just the slippery little thief to do just that.

"I'm impressed," Henry commented. "You do very good work."

Kimble smiled, absorbing the praise with pleasure. His earlier anger was completely gone. "I do all right," he said with false modesty. He reached for a bottle of beer nearby and drank from it.

"Please, Henry, don't encourage him. He'll be unbearable," Fallen teased, giving Kimble a playful bump with her shoulder.

Kimble garbled something at her and she replied in kind.

"May I ask what is that language you're speaking? It's very beautiful."

"It's Siskan," Fallen replied. "Kimble is a Siskan personality."

"That's interesting. Logan said the alphas have obtained a Siskan pleasure program. Logan spent some time with this...program. He said it was very....gratifying."

Kimble grinned. "I'm shure it wuz. Lanlin's no slouch, but I kin assures ya, I'm much better."

Henry wasn't put off again by Kimble's suggestion. He was becoming used to Kimble's flirtatious arrogance and could see that it was just a playful part of his personality, not that he would actually do any harm. He was impressed that Kimble knew about Lanlin, though. He had thought it was a secret held only by the alphas. It did boost his curiosity and he asked Kimble, "Why would a Siskan pleasure program such as yourself be content running a ship, I wonder? Seems to me your talents might be misplaced."

Kimble grinned mischievously. "I gots lotsa talents fer lotsa things. Wants ta find out?"

"That's enough!" Fallen interjected, exasperated by her spirited Kimble. She looked up at Henry and explained. "Kimble was damaged. He can't do everything he used to."

"It don' stop me from tryin'!" Kimble interrupted with a laugh.

"Even this hologram doesn't work right," Fallen continued, ignoring him. "It's not finished. Not all the files are working. There's a missing access code, but once I find that, the 'gram will be restored."

Kimble grunted. "Yeah, when Fallen's done with it, you kin haves Logan come see me fer a comparison. Or come by yerself, if ya have a mind. I ain't never had nobody with blue fur b'fore. Could be interestin'," Kimble offered, not giving an inch.

"Oh, you are impossible!" Fallen said, giving him a playful shove. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Not really," Kimble replied with a laugh, still enjoying the game.

"Yes, you do," Seth said, popping up on the viewing screen nearby. He was seated at his work station, neat and tidy as always. He was smiling, amused by Kimble's fooling around. "The diagnostics I set up for Engine Two are ready. Time to do that scan and crunch the numbers."

"Later."

"Now, Kimble," Fallen ordered sharply.

"Aye, Fallen," Kimble replied, his disappointment obvious.

Kimble stood up straight and crossed his arms. He bowed his head and Henry was startled to see Kimble's outer shape melt and turn grey as he left the hologram and returned to the system. The hologram material remained behind, converting itself into a cube. It settled to the floor and waited, ready to be used again.

"Fascinating," Henry repeated, awed by what he had seen today. "He's quite the character."

"He's a blast and I enjoy having him around very much," Fallen said as she gathered up the papers for Henry to take back with him. "Just do me a favor and don't tell anyone about the hologram. My Siskans are very precious to me."

"Your secret is safe with me," Henry said, thanking her for the papers. He wondered if he should tell her what he heard about a Siskan hologram going on a murderous rampage in the Station but decided it would be best to wait. Other than being rambunctiously playful, Kimble seemed harmless enough.

Henry returned to their quarters, refreshed and happy. At first the others complained because they had been left out, but Henry didn't come back empty handed. Fallen had given him a generous supply of lice soap and another care package of fresh bread and fruit. Logan bowed out to let the others enjoy what she had given them. He could at least tolerate the Clan food and had been eating pretty well all along. Henry and Gambit didn't argue but dug in cheerfully.

As he ate well for the second time that day, Henry told them about his strange encounter with Kimble. Gambit chuckled when Henry explained how flirtatious Kimble had been. "P'etetre, you should'ave taken 'im up on it. You could 'ave given us a full report, seen 'ow your research measured up to Logan's."

"Kinda tough to do that. At least mine was a girl," Logan said with a laugh.

"Well, he seemed harmless enough anyways. He had a lot of ideas that I think might be useful to us and his advice is definitely worth looking into."


	16. Chapter 16

(Sixteen)

Henry sat at his desk once more, trying to digest the Dognan blue prints Fallen had given him. There was a lot of work to be done and he wished he had some help. As if in answer to his silent plea, there was a soft knock on his table. He looked up to see a Clansman he didn't recognize. "Good morrow, alpha. My name is Bruce. Valentin sent me to give you a hand."

"Good morrow. I'm Henry and I am so very grateful you're here. This will take some time to work out," Henry said with a warm smile and offered his hand.

Bruce took it and gave a firm shake. He was a sturdy Clansman, in his mid-thirties and in good physical condition, though not as heavily muscled as most of the other Clan warriors. He had the tattoos and markings of medium rank and was quite intelligent. Henry learned that Bruce was in charge of most of the reconnaissance work and raid planning for Valentin. He had long rusty blonde hair tied back in the usual ponytail and green eyes that kept straying to Henry's big blue face though he tried to hide it. He had been a Clansman all his life and had never seen an alpha such as Henry with his blue fur and huge size.

Henry and Bruce got along immediately, laughing and teaching one another as they worked, and got a lot done. Bruce was talkative and bright as they worked, freely sharing many stories of growing up in an area not far from here called Pastor's Lake. He had an easy, friendly manner that wasn't much like the others here who seemed to function on the idea that posturing and bravado was the means by which a real man was measured. Henry did not share that view. It was pleasant beyond words to spend time like this, in the company of a relaxed and open person. Bruce was quick to laugh and a real treat to be with. The time fly by.

Bruce was very well educated and seemed able to interpret the plans that Fallen had provided well. They worked for several hours, accomplishing quite a bit, when there came a soft knock on the table again. Bruce turned to face his visitor with a warm smile. "Good morrow, Justin."

"Good morrow, Bruce," Justin greeted with a short laugh. Justin was a contrast to Bruce, being a medium sized Clansman, well built and heavily muscled. Clearly, he was more of a warrior than Bruce who was smaller and seemed weaker by comparison. Justin's hair was long and black, loose about his shoulders and not as long as everyone else's. He carried both a broadsword and a large bow on his back. His eyes glittered with intelligence and amusement as he looked at Henry. "Who's your friend?" he asked Bruce, apparently having qualms about openly showing his interest in the big blue mutant.

"This is Henry."

"Good morrow, Henry McCoy. I've heard all about you," Justin said, offering his hand.

Henry shook it. "All good, I hope."

Justin laughed again. "Fear not. The grapevine says you and Bruce here are going to save us all."

"Well, that's a hard reputation to live up to, but I'll try my best."

"I'm sure you will." Justin patted Bruce on the shoulder. "I'll be down in the galley if you want to eat with me. They'll be serving in an hour."

"I'll be there."

Justin nodded at him and withdrew, his eyes lingering on Bruce's face before he left. Bruce noticed Henry watching them and turned away shyly, his face flushing just slightly.

In that one gesture alone Henry knew these two were much more than just friends. Nothing had to be said, Beast was simply too observant to need them. All such well trained X-men were capable of assessing a person quickly like that, it was all part of survival training. Logan would argue that it was a matter of threat assessment, but Henry wasn't like that. He maintained a neutral ground when it came to race or gender or, more importantly, sexual orientation. He was aware that not many men were so accepting of that one difference and went out of his way to show that he wasn't one of them.

"You two known each other long?" Beast asked just to make conversation, keeping his voice neutral and light.

"We grew up together. The Clan is actually many Clans all gathered from different areas nearby here. We're both from the Deer Clan just like Valentin. We all grew up not far from here by Pastor's lake, that place I was telling you about earlier. When the Dognan war really started gearing up, Valentin convinced a lot of young men to join up with him. Justin convinced our parents to let us come here with him and join the fight."

Henry nodded, but he'd caught something in Bruce's tone. "Doesn't sound like to me like it was your decision."

Bruce thought carefully before he spoke. "Justin wanted to fight. I didn't want to leave him behind. We've been close friends for a long time." He looked up at Henry warily, waiting for judgement. He knew Henry had caught on to him and Justin alarmingly fast, but Beast just smiled at him warmly.

"I understand, my friend. These things are never easy. It seems as though it worked out all right for you. You have a good position here."

Bruce relaxed noticeably. "It's all right. All this technical knowledge is dry and more than a little boring, but it keeps me off the field. I'll be the first to admit I've never been much of a fighter, not like Justin there. He lives for the fight. He spends all of his free time practicing how to do it all better. I can't help but wonder what he'll do when the war is over, if we pull this off, I mean."

"I'm sure things will work out for you guys," Beast said, ever the optimist. He leaned back and stretched, cracking his neck and shoulders. "Why don't you go along and join him. We can pick this up tomorrow. I'm in need of some rest myself."

"Why don't you join us?"

Clan food. Henry couldn't stop the shudder of revulsion that made him shiver. "My apologies, but your Clan food doesn't quite agree with me."

Bruce just smiled. "I know what you mean. It took some time for me to get used to it myself. Pastor's Lake was the best for hunting, but it's been so long now I hardly remember what decent food tastes like. I've lost a lot of weight since I've lived here."

"No offense but I hope I'm not here that long," Henry joked and steered Bruce towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"None taken. Later," Bruce said and left quickly, going the way Justin had gone.

The time passed quickly for the X-men as they and the Clan prepared for the final assault on the Dognan. Valentin kept a close watch on the alpha troops and was always around, making sure all was going well. He was in charge of the big raid and had full rights to use as many of the alphas and best trained Clan troops as he wished. He worked closely with Beast and Wolverine as they laid out their ideas and moved his people around to suit them, actions that only caused Wolverine's opinion of him to grow. He treated both Henry and Logan with respect and listened to what they had to say.

Valentin behaved very differently here in the Station than he had out in the field when the X-men first met him. He was obviously in charge, but didn't harass or abuse his men. It was quite the opposite actually – he worked closely with them in the training and practiced just as hard as they did. His skill in weaponry was clear as well as the hard work he'd gone through to obtain it. There were no ugly episodes, not like how Valentin had behaved with Kane or his people. It was if that same man didn't exist here, like Valentin suffered from some kind of split personality. If Logan hadn't seen him abuse Fallen so badly, his respect for Valentin would have come much more easily. As it was, Logan found himself liking Valentin very much against his better judgment.

Valentin was watchful of Gambit, but they hardly spoke. Valentin insisted that Remy come along with them out in the field, having watched his fighting skills with admiration. Logan knew it wasn't really Remy's thing, being that Gambit was more of a sneaky infiltrator than a hardened soldier, but it would allow them to stay together where Logan could keep an eye on his Cajun teammate.

Gambit continued to work with the alphas, brushing them up on their hand to hand skills, while also showing them some of his tricks from his days as a thief. There weren't many places he couldn't get into. He didn't share Logan's respect for Valentin, but Gambit had never seen real combat. He didn't realize as Logan did that Valentin was the kind of man who could get the job done in situations where most men would fall apart. Remy avoided Valentin as much as possible and concentrated on his work. He tried to keep his mind on his objective which was to get home in one piece and get back to his girl.

Logan worked with a small crew of alphas, teaching them how make plastique and other small bombs from the materials the Clan had stolen from the Dognan. As promised, they learned quickly and soon they had a good supply of explosives primed and ready for use.

Henry was used more for the planning stages of things and organizing, but he and Bruce also helped out with helping the Clan to salvage what they could from whatever tidbits of technology Fallen managed to steal form the Dognan. It was quite a bit. There were two way radios and tracking devices, armor and weapons to compliment Wolverine's collection of explosives.

When the last plans were finalized, Logan came by to see Henry to learn what he and Bruce had come up with. They made good use of the blue prints Fallen had provided and came up with a decent strategy. The plan was to assault the Dognan stronghold in the three stages. First they would hit the main munitions and supply dump on the outside of the complex, near the ruined city. This would take out the steam out of the Dognan defense and hopefully make the next stages easier and less dangerous.

Next, they would blow up the living quarters where most of the Dognan soldiers were stationed. The Dognan wouldn't be able to fight if most of them were dead.

Then they would go for the main complex itself. This was more difficult because they would actually have to get inside. At first, Logan said this was impossible, but changed his mind when Henry showed him the scrolled blue prints of the complex. There were small marks and comments on the margins. Logan looked at the marks on the corners and turned to Henry, "Who's mark is that?"

Henry grinned. "Seth's. He organized the documents after he hacked them off of a Dognan computer. He's quite sneaky and clever, you know. Some of the remarks came from Kimble. What marvelous handwriting he has. He makes good use of the hologram, as I had told you. It was his suggestion that we hit the main reactor in the center. He was able to determine that destroying that would cause an explosion big enough to bring the whole building down."

"How're we gonna get those charges in there? Looks complicated."

"Easy. We'll have our Cajun friend sneak in through the ventilation shafts and plant the charges while the rest of you create a diversion outside. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"How we gonna get outta there on time?"

"Jacob and Reese. We 'port in and use what few pilots we have to move you guys around as we need to. All you have to do is make enough fuss for Remy to get the job done and then get out as fast as you can. It's so simple it has to work."

"Have you talked to Gambit yet?"

"I'll tell him after supper. I can't see how it would be a problem."


	17. Chapter 17

(Seventeen)

"You want Gambit to do what?!"

Henry backed up a bit, surprised by the heat of Remy's reaction. The thief was outraged, barely in control of his temper. His red eyes blazed and his hands clenched and unclenched in fury. Beast and Logan, along with Valentin, had approached the fiery eyed mutant with their proposal on how to destroy the Dognan base. Henry had figured Gambit would be all over it, enjoying any kind of challenge, and was not prepared for this little snag in their plans.

"All ya gotta do is sneak in, plant the charges and get out," Wolverine repeated, not understanding what the big deal was.

"Gambit, he a t'ief. He ain't no killer, not no more. Dat place'll be loaded with dose cat guys!"

"Sometime's there's a killin' that needs to be done."

"Bullshit! Dat's a load of fuckin' crap an' you know it!"

"If you won't do it, all you have to do is bring someone in who will," Valentin said evenly. He was exasperated at how sensitive alphas could be. They never seemed to understand war and how these things must be done. Sacrifices had to be made.

Gambit's face turned colors Henry had never seen before. Valentin had made a serious error.

"Disparassent la baise vous-meme, vous encule de mere!" Gambit bellowed in his fury and then the room exploded in red flame and dust. They barely had time to duck under the heavy table. Remy had charged over a dozen cards and flung them at them. The had cards exploded loudly, causing chunks of rock and debris to go flying from the walls and ceiling. By the time the had dust settled, Remy was gone.

"Well, that went smoothly," Wolverine quipped, dusting himself off. He had to hide the sly smile that was threatening to leak out. It had been in ragged French, but there had been a certain satisfaction in hearing Gambit tell Valentin to go fuck himself.

It was true Valentin didn't get it, though Remy's anger was easy enough to read. He complained in exasperation, "What's going on? I thought you said he would help us!"

Henry sighed and gave Valentin a brief run down of Gambit's history, the Morlock Massacre in particular. Valentin's brow creased with frustration.

"This isn't the same thing!"

"To him it is."

"I'll go talk to him," Logan offered and left.

He followed Remy's trail easily, all he had to do was follow the smell of frustration and anger, Remy was really pissed. Logan sighed with impatience. They should have guessed that Remy would have a problem with this scenario, it just hadn't occurred to them until it was too late. Remy had gone quite far before he finally ran out of steam and slowed down. He had traveled as far as the outer hanger bays, sneaking past the guards. Logan found him on the edge of a carved, stone ventilation shaft for the hanger, his legs dangling and his head down.

Wolverine sat next to his teammate without saying anything. He knew Remy would speak when he was ready.

Gambit sniffed and took a deep breath. His eyes were shiny with angry tears that he didn't bother to hide. "You done kicked me out for bein' a killer! You left Gambit behind to die for doin' dis very t'ing! How dare you ask dis of me!?"

"I wouldnt've left ya behind fer that," Wolverine said quietly. He hadn't been there when the shit went down and couldn't honestly answer what he ultimately would have done. The bad decision had been made in the heat of anger with poor Remy paying the price.

"Non. Non. You would 'ave killed me instead!" Remy snapped.

Logan put his head down and sighed. "I don' kill fer no stupid reasons, kid."

Gambit snorted. "Neither do I."

"You gonna tell me why you let Sinister talk ya into doin' what ya did? You ain't never said."

Gambit slowly shook his head. "It wasn't for nuthin' stupid. Wasn't for money or nuthin' like dat. 'Sides, I didn' know nobody was gonna get killed or I never would've done it."

"Then why?"

Gambit didn't reply.

Logan sighed again. "Look, kid. Doin' this thing isn't like what you did before. This is war. Out here, only the strongest survive. If you don't do this for us, we'll have to go in full throttle and a lotta folks're gonna die. You can do this quiet. You can do this sneaky." Logan waited but Gambit still said nothing. He was listening, though. "Think of this. We don't owe those Dognan creeps nuthin'. How many of our own people did they kill when we were stuck in that holdin' cell, huh? What about the pens? What about all them slaves they keep makin'? We gotta take these sleazebags out. If we don't, they're just going to keep comin'."

"I can't."

"Then take a team in like Valentin said. Just one or two guys, that's all."

Gambit looked up, his face strained from trying to keep those traitorous tears from falling. "Gambit's got a bill too big already to ever pay back. He can't make up for dis one too."

"You don't have to. Lives saved fer the lives lost."

Remy shivered as he heard Wolverine speak those words. Logan must have heard him muttering those words to himself many times out on the road.

"Do this, Remy. It's the right thing ta do. Remember, there ain't honor in a killin' if ya do it fer hate or cuz ya wanna hurt somebody. This isn't about that. This is about survival. It ain't bad if ya don't love it." Logan rubbed his hands together slowly. "I know you don't believe this, but you've more than made up for what you've done. Three hundred Morlocks dead but six million people saved during that Genosha thing we did five months ago. You're square, Remy. You been square fer a long time now."

"I didn't do Genosha alone. De whole team was in on it."

"Doesn't matter, but if it does to you, than do this. Do this and be square."

Remy put his head down and slowly nodded. Logan patted him on the shoulder and left him, figuring Remy would want to be alone.

Gambit sat on the stoop and looked out over the grey sky of Cerise. He was strong in his heart and in his will, and it had done him some good to hear Wolverine speak so well of him. He was lonely, he was tired and very, very homesick, but he would do what was asked of him.

_Jus' gotta get t'rough dis one t'ing,_ he whispered to his heart, _Jus' dis one t'ing, an' it just a little, little t'ing like all de other little t'ings you done. We do dis, den we go 'ome. It's gotta be, it jus' gotta be, 'cause I don' t'ink I'm gonna make it 'ere on m' own._

Remy looked out at the sky once more, shuddered from a chill felt more on the inside than out, and rose to follow his friend.

To be continued in Endgame.


End file.
